Ad Fundum
by LttlMssTrouble
Summary: Tony gets shot in the back and ends up in a wheelchair. How will he cope with that? Will he ever walk again? And there is a serial killer on the lose, who wants revenge on Gibbs who killed his brother...
1. Prologue

'TONY!!'

Gibss knew it the moment he heard Ziva scream. It wasn't a stop-messing-with-me-right-now-or-I-will-hurt-you-bad-scream. Or a look-out-there-is-threat-right-beside-you-scream. It was that kind of scream filled with angst, panic and shock, the kind he would never forget. He had never heard Ziva scream like that before. Automatically he started running towards her. She was standing at the end of the roof, looking down. Her face was white from horror, and it looked as if she was frozen on the spot. The moment he stood next to her, time stopped. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

About 16 feet below the murderer of three little children was bleeding to death. Next to him lay Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Motionless. Face down. With one bullet hole in his back.


	2. 3 months, 5 days, 21 hours, 10 minutes

_Disclaimer: not mine, just borrowing  
_

_A/N: I thought it would take away some of the charm to write stuff before or after the prologue, so I decided to do it here. Nasty start of a story, hea? But don't worry, Tony still lives. I do wonder what is up with the whole 'lets-hurt-Tony-thing' in stories haha, he get hurts enough already in the show. But this story didn't leave my head, so I decided to give it a go. Hope you like it, and if you any thoughts about it you want to share: there is a purple/blue button right at the end of this chapter ;-)_

_Warning: no beta-reader, and English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes._

* * *

**3 months, 5 days, 21 hours and 10 minutes later**

'Good morning Tony! Are you ready for today?' The nurse walked in with a happy smile on her face. She pulled the curtains open, and looked at her patient, who was already awake, and smiled happily at her.

'Yes I'm ready. I want to go home!'

'Is there anyone who will go with you? It isn't wise to be alone the first days,' the nurse looked a bit worried. She had met his teammates and his boss, but relatives hadn't shown up at the visiting hours. She missed the flash of darkness in Tony's eyes.

'I'm fine, really. I will manage perfectly,'

'You really thought that we would leave you alone DiNozzo?' Gibbs walked in the room, one hand in his pocket and in the other one coffee. Ziva, McGee, Ducky and Abby followed him in. Tony looked bewildered for a moment, but than a smile crept on his face. He hadn't dare to ask them for help, but he could have known that it wasn't necessary to ask. They knew he wouldn't so they filled in the blanks.

'Thanks boss. So, were are my wheels?' The nurse smiled relieved, and walked around the bed. In the corner of the room stood a black wheelchair. She rolled it to the bed, and wanted to help Tony in it. A grim look appeared in his eyes.

'Please don't. I have to learn to do this without help eventually,' he looked up at the others. 'If you guys don't want to see it, that's cool you know. It won't be the prettiest sight in the world. I won't think any less of you if you want to wait outside,'

'I've seen you in almost every awkward, disgusting, slimy, muddy, smelling, wet situation possible. I'm fine,' Ziva winked. Gibbs didn't even answer his statement.

'I don't think you'll look less prettier than my dead bodies ,' Ducky smiled and nodded friendly. McGee hesitated, shuffled his feet.

'It's okay Probie. Really,' Tony said it softly, but serious. McGee nodded, looked at Gibbs but he didn't say a word. Making up his mind, he turned around and left the room. Abby looked shocked. 'Go on Abs, follow him. He can use you right now,' Abby nodded, but ran to Tony first. She hugged him, a tear escaping from her eye. After that, she went after McGee.

'Are you sure you don't need help?' the nurse asked again.

'Positive,' Tony nodded. He sat up straight, pushed the sheets back, and bend over to the chair. The nurse had put it right next to his bed. Tony set it on the breaks, and sat back up straight. He got his legs with both hands and slowly maneuvered them over the side of the bed. After that he levered himself up, one hand on the arm rest of the chair, one on the bed. A bit clumsy he slid himself in the chair. He set his feet on the plateaus, and sat up straight. 'So, what are we waiting for,' he grinned.

A few minutes later he wheeled out of the room, his bag on his lap. It looked as if a small parade was going through the hospital hallways: Tony in front, Ziva and Gibbs were walking next to him and Ducky, Abby and McGee after them. Nurses stopped them, giving Tony a hug or a hand, patients waving and smiling at him, even some relatives of patients waved him goodbye. Gibbs waited patiently while an elder woman thanked Tony for the way he had distracted her from her operation. He couldn't help wondering how it was possible that DiNozzo was doing so well, after discovering that he maybe couldn't walk again. Ever.


	3. Go Away!

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Maybe I should make a wishlist though..._

_A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews guys! I must admit, this was the hardest chapter to write so far, and I'm not completely happy about it, but it will have to do.  
_

_ mafiaprincessa.k.a. alisa and annsan: the reason I skipped 3 months of hospital is easy: it just wasn't interesting. He comes out in a wheelchair, that mattered the most right now._

* * *

**Go away!**

At Tony's place they sat around the dinner table, eating pizza. They talked about everything, from movies up to old cases, but they avoided one subject: Tony's condition. At a certain point, they needed refills. Tony was still laughing at a joke that McGee made.

'I'll get them,' he said, and he wanted to get up out of his chair. Halfway mid-air he stopped moving, remembering that he couldn't walk. He sat back, and refused to look up, gripping the arm rest so hard that his knuckles turned white. He took a deep breath, relaxed his muscles and put a smile on his face.

'It's been fun and all, but I'm kind of tired. I hope you won't mind?' He wheeled himself away from the table, to the window. He sat there until the soft sounds of cleaning and leaving where gone. He looked down at his legs. His useless, good for nothing, unreliable, stupid legs. He had hated every single minute of being in the hospital.

'_Mister DiNozzo? I'm doctor Black. I'm afraid we have bad news,' the doctor looked serious at him. Tony wasn't sure if he even wanted to hear what he had to say. He had figured out a view things on his own already. _

'_You've got paraplegia. The bullet that hit you in the back shattered a bone, and some bone fragments severed your spinal cord. This causes that you may be not be able to walk again,' the doctor explained. _

Well, okay, they didn't use those words exactly. They talked about _trauma _and _lumbar_ and stuff like that. But it was all the same in the end: only with a lot of training there was a chance he could walk again. Surgery wasn't an option at this stage because the bone fragments where too close to some nerves or blood vessels or something. He didn't really remembered, he only remembered that he couldn't walk anymore. Nothing else mattered than that.

'I thought I asked you to go home,' he suddenly said. Turning around, looking at Ziva, who sat on his couch.

'How did you know I didn't leave?'

'I wish I could say it was because of my sudden grown ability to feel a person's appearance, or because I suddenly can hear a lot better. But I'm afraid it's just because the window reflected it you,' he plastered a smile on his face. Ziva grinned back a bit, but her smile faded away.

'How are you doing Tony?'

'I'm fine,'

Ziva raised her eyebrows. The entire time in the hospital he had made jokes, he entertained them at visiting hours, he entertained the nurses and doctors. Apparently he had entertained other patients and their visitors as well. But she had seen tiny bits of his true feelings. The look of pain in his eyes when he thought no one was watching. His eyes didn't sparkle when he smiled, like they used to do. And earlier, when he wanted to get up and becoming aware of his inability. He was hiding his pain, not willing to accept it.

'If you say so. But if you ever think you are ready to talk, just call me, yes?'

'You still didn't say why you didn't leave,' he avoided a direct answer.

'The doctors said you shouldn't be alone so soon, so I'm staying,' she smiled. Tony looked as if he was going to throw her out.

'Don't even think about it. I don't care if you are in that chair or not, I will hurt you if you're throwing me out,'

'Fine, stay. I'm going to sleep,' he grumbled. 'And no, I don't need help in my bedroom,' he said when Ziva opened her mouth.

Would he ever learn? Ziva sighed, and lay down on the couch. She listened intently to the noises that came from after the closed bedroom door. She heard some stumbling and cursing. It became quiet, and she closed her eyes – till a big crash made her sit up straight. She should go check on him. No, he would be really pissed. But what if he was hurt? She couldn't just let him . . . Quietly she went on her feet, moved to his bedroom door and pushed it open carefully.

Tony was lying on the floor, his head on his arms, softly cursing. The wheelchair lay on the floor next to him, on one side with the wheel still spinning. Ziva walked in the room and kneeled by his side.

'Go away!'

'Do you remember when we were in that warehouse, and that there was a bomb. Gibbs ordered us to leave, so the bomb squad could disarm it. I ignored Gibbs' orders, and dismantled the bomb – and you stayed with me. You didn't leave my side than. Why?'

'Because you're my partner,' Tony grumbled, while Ziva helped him up.

'And that's the reason I won't leave you alone,' with one arm on his back, the other on his chest, she pushed herself up and landed with Tony in her arms on his bed. He started to laugh.

'What?'

'Well, I always thought we would end up in one bed at some point, I just never figured it was because I couldn't walk and was stupid enough to fall out of that chair,' Ziva hit him in his stomach, but couldn't help laughing either. Tony sighed, and started to get in his bed properly. Ziva got up and set up his wheelchair.

'Why do you act so . . . easy about it?' she asked carefully. Tony stayed silent. 'Tony?'

'I heard you Ziva. It's just . . . this is something that is so huge, that I just can't get my head around it. So I keep reminding myself that this isn't the end of the world. I mean, there are so much worse things that could happen to me. If three months of rehab, four hours a day, doesn't work, than what good would it do to keep trying?'

'You shouldn't give up that easily. And that it could have been worse, doesn't mean you shouldn't deal with it,' she answered soft.

'When it's time to yell and scream and to break things, you'll be the first to know, okay?'

'Okay. If you need me, just call alright? I'll be here,' Tony nodded, and watched Ziva leaving his bedroom. He lay down, placed his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He expected another sleepless night, but to his surprise he felt himself dozing away.


	4. Fight or Flight

_Disclaimer: Not mine. If I only had the money..._

_A/N: My first chapter that has been beta'd! Many thanks to NcisRulz! You've been a great help! And many thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/alerted my story.  
_

_Don't worry guys, I promise I will write how Tony went through rehab ;) It may take me another chapter or 2, but it will come on the table eventually.  
_

* * *

**Fight or Flight**

'Jethro, you need to look at those personnel files. You can't hold it off much longer,'

'I can't do that to him. Not yet. Place those files back in your cabinet, because I won't get a new senior field agent yet!' Jenny rose up from her chair while Gibbs was standing in front of her desk.

'Special Agent Gibbs!'

'What!'

'You are short a field agent. If you don't make the decision, I will do it for you!'

Gibbs leant over the desk, his face inches from hers.

'You owe him Jen. You've put him through enough already, with The Frog and his daughter. You have no idea how much that case affected him. If you let him down now, he will never recover from it. And you know that. So you will give him the chance to get back in my team, or I will hand you my resignation. Today.' Jenny sat back in her chair, and gave a big sigh.

'Fine. I know I owe him Jethro. Don't you dare tell me what I do and do not know about that case. But you will need another agent in your team. If you don't fix that, I personally will!'

Gibbs stormed out of her office, down the stairs and into the bullpen. Ziva and McGee were sitting at their desks, trying to catch up on paperwork. Gibbs stopped before Tony's desk. After a minute, he made up his mind.

'Ziva!'

'Gibbs?'

'How was he doing yesterday?'

'Same as the rest of the week**,** down. He didn't want to watch any movies and he said he had exercised but he lied about that. Why?'

'He is at home?'

'Yes, but wh. . .' she got up just in time to see the doors of the elevator close.

'What is he going to do?' McGee asked confused.

'I have really no idea McGee,' Ziva sighed. McGee stood up and walked over to her desk.

'Do you miss him?' he inquired.

'With his annoying movie quotes and references, stupid jokes and the ways how he checks in every single woman?'

'It's checking out,'

'Whatever. Yeah I miss him McGee. It's like having a stray dog who walks after you: he is so annoying that you want to chase him away, but when he's gone, you miss him like crazy,' Ziva's eyes went over the empty desk. It looked strangely neat without the mess Tony normally made of it.

'Like crazy?' McGee looked at Ziva with growing interest. 'Something like a Lisa-Tommy-thing?' Ziva froze for a moment. She glared at McGee.

'You miss him, right?'

'Well . . . yeah. Kinda,'

'Even though he makes fun of you every time he gets the chance? Or that he keeps calling you Probie?'

'Well, it's just . . . that's . . . not the same!'

'But you do miss him?'

'Yes,'

'So why should that be any different than the way I miss him?' McGee was silent for a moment, and decided that he really needed to change the subject.

'What do you think Gibbs is up to?'

* * *

Gibbs knocked on the door of Tony's apartment. After a few minutes Tony opened the door.

'Boss!'

'You sound surprised DiNozzo,'

'Aren't you supposed to be working?'

'My senior field agent didn't show up again, so I decided to get him myself,'

'I think you've got the wrong apartment then,' Tony sounded dark.

'I don't think so. Grab your gear, you've been sitting long enough on your ass,' the corner of his mouth went up slightly.

'I don't feel like being at the office doing nothing,' Tony protested.

'You are way behind on your paperwork,' Gibbs insisted. 'So get your stuff, or do you want me to get it for you?' He walked into the apartment. It was a lot messier than the last time he visited. Clothes lay spread out through the room, dirty dishes where covering the tables, the floor was covered with empty pizza boxes. The normally organized bookcase with DVD's was a complete mess. The curtains where closed, a few lights burned.

Tony thought the idea of Gibbs going through his personal stuff was a little scary, but he really had no intentions of going to the office. He looked up at Gibbs, a firm look on his face.

'I won't go,' he crossed his arms before his chest, his face stubborn and determined.

'Why?'

'Don't you get it Gibbs! I'm not going back in the field! I can't be an agent anymore! Or did you miss the memo that I need wheels instead of legs!' Gibbs gave him a hard stare. He could sense the frustration, the anger and the bitterness in Tony's voice. Sitting in his apartment all day, thinking about what happened, would only make things worse. So he had decided to push the matter, and getting him back in the office definitely was pushing it.

'You know what the advantage is of that wheelchair of yours?' Gibbs looked around in the messy apartment and saw a familiar backpack lying in a corner. He picked it up, and hung it over his shoulder.

'Why don't you enlighten me,'

'It has wheels.' Gibbs walked over, grabbed the bars of the wheelchair and pushed Tony out of his apartment. 'Don't even _think_ about using the brakes, I'll handcuff you if necessary,' he threatened.

* * *

After putting the wheelchair in the trunk of the car, Gibbs took off. He gave a sideway glance to his passenger, who was looking out of the window, showing no emotions except for being pissed.

'How are you holding up?'

'I'm fine Boss,' it came out too quick.

'So you aren't afraid of never walking again, losing your job, and living your life like you used to?' Tony clenched his jaw together, but refused to answer.

'Listen carefully DiNozzo, I'm only going to say this once. You are one of the best field agents I've ever worked with. And we are all willing to help you get back in the field. However, if you gave up on coming back already, we can't do much to help you. But if you're willing to fight, if you are prepared to go to the bottom and back, we will help you every step of the way. Because we are a team. We are a family. And we need you in our family. Understood?'

Tony didn't answer, and Gibbs hit the brakes hard – followed by the honking and yelling of frustrated drivers. Tony was yanked forward, and looked in shock at his boss.

'Boss this is a freeway!'

'Did I make myself clear?'

'Very!'

'So, will you fight or flight DiNozzo?' Tony looked back anxious. A big black truck closed in quickly. Very quickly. So quickly that he could almost see the pupils of the driver widen by the sight of a car standing still on the freeway.

'Fight! I will fight boss! Just drive! Please!' Gibbs smirked, and sped away. He reached out his hand, and gave a firm smack at the back of Tony's head.

'What was that for!'

'Because you gave up already,'


	5. Annabelle

_Disclaimer: not mine. _

_A/N: First of all, my compliments for shirik, who saw the link wit Dark Angel :) That's the show where Michael Weatherly plays Logan, who is in a... wheelchair :P _

_Second, thanks for the reviews :) I really appreciate them - don't hesitate to add another!_

_And third - last but not least: many thanks again to NcisRulz for beta'ing again :)_

* * *

**Annabelle  
**

'So, who gets the honors?' Gibbs asked, standing next to Tony in the elevator.

'How's Abby doing?'

'She is talking to moppet-Tony. Need to say more?'

'Abby it is then,' Tony nodded. They went down to the lab, and entered. Abby was nodding her head with the beat of deafening music, sitting behind her computer. She looked up and waved at Gibbs. Her hand froze in mid-air when she saw Tony. The next second Tony felt two arms around him, grasping him in a gigantic hug.

'Abby, that he can't walk that doesn't mean you need to cut off his breathing ability as well,' Gibbs smirked. Abby let him go, and smiled at him.

'I'm so glad you're back Tony! McGee and Ziva are cool, but I can't imagine us without you! And I've done a lot of searching already for treatments and stuff that will help you. I've found a great outfit, artificial legs, they will help you walk, but the hinky part of it is that you can't go into the water so maybe we shouldn't try it out and . . .'

Tony watched her walking up and down, talking about helping him, supporting him, searching ways to make him better. The reasons why he didn't want to go to the office faded away, like they never were there. Abby was already diving into every piece of information she could find that possible could help him walk again. She was so sweet. Not asking anything, just accepting, being her normal self. He had been afraid that things would be awkward. That they would look at him as if he was an alien or something. That they would treat him as if he could fall apart every minute. But suddenly he was convinced that that wouldn't be happening. Their visits to the hospital hadn't been different than Abby was acting now. That he didn't want to hear the solutions and treatments and all wasn't their fault. After one of his explosions of anger they stopped talking about it, but they still were there for him. Abby apparently had decided that now he was back in the office, it was time to make him walk again. He hadn't had the heart to yell at her for trying. With a cough he tried to get rid of the sudden lump in his throat. It didn't help.

'Abby,' he said.

'. . . and there are some experimental surgeries but it will take a while before they have definite results of that so we should . . .'

'Abby!'

'Yes?'

'Thanks,' he nodded, and after that he left the lab.

'But I've got more!' Abby said, hesitant.

'It's fine Abs. He will come back for information, when he's ready,' Gibbs smiled. He had seen the way Tony looked when she was rattling about ways to get him on his feet again. He

had seen the teary eyes, and the blinking to get them dry again. The tiny glimpse of relief on his face. It was a start.

* * *

Tony rolled into autopsy, where Ducky was telling a story about to a body that lay on the table while he was sewing him up.

'It was terrible actually, he was a very good cricket player, but after that bat had hit him right between the eyes he never played as good as in that game again. Well, of course that is rather difficult if you can only see with one eye,'

'That had got to hurt,' Ducky turned around, and smiled when he saw Tony.

'Anthony, it's good to see you again! How are you doing?'

'Well, at least I can still see with both eyes,'

'That sure does count for something. My compliments on the way you followed that guy on the roof. It was quiet the run!'

'Yeah, too bad his buddy was hiding on that roof. He did a good attempt in trying to kill me,'

'But he didn't. And with catching him and his friend's death, you saved the lives of many children Anthony. You shouldn't forget that,'

'I won't forget it! I'm glad we get the bastards. Abusing children like that is just wrong. But it's just . . . '

'Yes?'

'It's not that I want to sound ungrateful. It's just that . . . if we didn't catch them, I wouldn't be in this chair. So sometimes I wish that we didn't caught them,'

'It isn't wrong if you think that, Tony. It's wrong if you keep thinking like that. Did you consider talking to a psychiatrist?'

'They assigned me to one in the hospital, but he kept going on and on about my childhood. Idiot. So I kind of fire him,'

'You fired him?'

'Well, maybe I fired myself. I just told him that he was being a prick so I took off,' Tony sniggered at the thought of it.

'You really should go talking to someone young men,'

'Maybe, some day. Thanks Duck, I'm going to see McGee and Ziva,' Ducky nodded, and went back to his dead body.

'So, he did try to play with one eye, the poor man. Once, he missed . . .'

In the elevator, Tony pushed the button for the first floor. He was anxious to go to the bullpen. He had imagined himself walking in there, after rehabilitation. Fully recovered, back on the job, back in the field. But it was after rehab. And he still couldn't walk. Gibbs had made him come to work, and somehow he did appreciate that. And going down to see Abby in her lab wasn't really that bad after all. But now he was heading for the bullpen. He wondered if they had stolen some of his stuff again, like they did the last time. But he doubted that, they hadn't thought he was dead. Then again: they knew he probably couldn't be a field agent anymore. Somehow that sounded a whole lot better than saying it in the other way: he was forced to be a desk agent. If he didn't quit, that was. After all, he was doing this job for about seven years. Longer than any other job he ever had. Maybe it was time to move on? Oh hell, who was he kidding? He wouldn't go down without a fight. But without his job, life didn't seem worth living.

* * *

Ziva's head danced up and down while she was reading a magazine behind her desk. She was listening to some music on her iPod, the report she was working on was forgotten. On the other side of the bullpen, McGee had his head leaning against the back of his chair, and he was snoring softly. Tony wheeled in, and looked at the sight of two lazy teammates. Former teammates. No, he hadn't left the team yet. Teammates.

Forgetting his thoughts earlier on, he got a glint of mischief in his eyes. Ziva would probably kill him, and notice him early on. But Probie . . . Probie was sound asleep. Sleeping like a little baby. An opportunity like that was impossible to ignore. He went over to Ziva and peeked around her magazine. Ziva dropped it, and took off her iPod.

'Tony!'

'Ssssh, look who's sleeping,' Tony hushed quickly. He looked over at McGee, who hadn't heard a thing.

'What are you up to?'

'Don't know yet. Do you have toothpaste or something?'

'Are you sure you want to do this?'

'It makes me feel good. So, any toothpaste? Shaving cream?'

'Shaving cream!? For what, shaving my moustache?'

'Do you have a . . . never mind, I do not want to know that. Hair gel maybe?' Ziva rolled her eyes, and Tony went over to the other side of her desk. He opened a drawer, but Ziva grabbed his wrist.

'Don't even think about going through my desk,' she hissed. Moments later she placed a bottle of hair gel and a tube with toothpaste in front of Tony.

'And now what?' she asked, looking curious after all.

'Yeah, what are you going to do with that?' McGee asked, stretching and yawning at the same time. Tony pouted.

'Nothing anymore, I guess,' he sighed. 'So how are things going around here without the Big D?' he asked jokingly.

'Much quieter,' answered McGee. 'But it's been boring actually. I can't remember the last time that I could sleep behind my desk in broad daylight with you around,'

'Everything to keep you sharp Probie!'

'We get a lot more desk work done without you around, DiNozzo,' Gibbs smirked, walking to his desk and grabbing his sidearm. 'Grab your gear, we've got a dead sailor! McGee, gas the truck, Ziva, inform Ducky. Tony, you're with . . . ' Gibbs broke of his sentence. 'Yeah, that would be kind of tricky, because he decided to get murdered in the woods,' Tony had an indifferent look on his face. He decided he didn't care. They got to do the dirty work in the woods, where it probably would be muddy and dirty and wet. So it saved him a trip to the dry cleaner. That was fine by him. Really. Just peachy.

'We will inform you with details, so you can look for any leads from here, okay?'

'Sure boss, I'll be. . .'

'. . . fine, yeah right. Join Abby in the lab if you want to!' Gibbs turned around and hurried after Ziva and McGee to the elevator. Tony clenched his jaws together, and went over to his desk. He pushed his old chair away, and sat behind it. It looked as if everything was still there. He opened the top drawer, and found his sidearm. He closed the drawer softly, and sat back. Waiting.

* * *

Jenny closed the door of MTAC behind her, and saw Cynthia standing at the balcony, some files in her hand.

'What are you doing?' Jenny asked, standing next to her.

'Oh, sorry Director. I was actually looking for you, but I saw him sitting there,' she looked at Tony, who was still sitting at his desk.

'What is he doing?'

'Well, that's what I was wondering. Apparently nothing.'

'Nothing? I know he has a habit of doing other stuff than his work, but nothing? At all?'

'I've been standing here for almost fifteen minutes, and he hasn't moved once. Should we warn someone?'

'No, I don't think that's necessary. I'll go down and talk to him. Did you have a message for me?'

'Ehm . . . yes I do. The director of the FBI called to confirm your lunch for next week. Oh, and here are those files you requested,' she handed them over.

'Okay, thanks,' Jenny answered distracted. It wasn't like Tony to sit still like this. She had gotten to know him as an active, eager agent. Doing nothing wasn't something he liked. She'd always thought he wasn't even capable of it. She walked down the stairs, and went over to his desk.

'Tony,' Tony woke up out of a trance.

'Director,' he said a wry smile on his face. Their relationship had definitely changed when his cover was blown. They were still friendly, but it had become less warm.

'Everything alright?' she asked. He heard genuine concern in her voice.

'Sure, why wouldn't it be?'

'According to Cynthia, you are sitting here for more than fifteen minutes, without doing anything,'

'So now you've got Cynthia spying on me? Director?'

'No, she was searching for me to deliver a message, but saw you sitting here. She is just concerned about you, Tony. We all are,'

'Don't be. I'm fine,'

Jenny sat down on Ziva's desk, facing Tony. She took a small, black stress ball in her hands, that Ziva had lying on her desk. _Squeeze, don't yell_ was printed on it in white letters. The file lay forgotten on the desk.

'I said that all the time when I was in Cairo,' she started telling him, without looking up. She squeezed the ball in her hand.

'So?'

'The point is, I wasn't 'fine'. I was a wreck. Physically and mentally. Did Ziva ever tell you about Cairo?'

'She told me a few things. She saved your life when someone blew himself up, right?' Tony became interested. He had always wondered what happened in Cairo. It had to be big; Ziva didn't want to talk about it. Not that that was unusual, but whenever it came up, she got a strange look on her face. As if she was frightened, and Ziva wasn't someone who was scared easily. And he noticed how the Director was abusing the stress ball. He wondered why she was telling him this.

'Yeah, that's the short version,' Jenny looked up, and threw the stress ball to Tony. He caught it easily with one hand.

'I was in the hospital for almost six months. I needed to learn almost everything from scratch. I couldn't feed myself, I couldn't clothe myself, I needed to learn how to walk again, I wasn't even able to lace my shoes. The doctors had given up hope that I would have a normal life again. Ever. I always told everyone that I was fine. That I would manage. That I didn't need to talk about it. When Ziva had recovered, she yelled at me a few times. It didn't help, I was too stubborn,'

'I'm guessing you aren't telling me this because you are saying I don't need a shrink,' Tony said, tossing the ball back. Jenny smiled softly.

'No, I'm telling you this because you do need to talk. I needed it. And if you don't want to talk to a shrink, that's fine. But if you don't talk about it, you will never recover from it. At least not mentally,' she stood up, and placed the ball back on Ziva's desk.

'How did you do it?'

'How did I do what?'

'Getting through rehab and all?'

'The truth? I was angry. Angry at the doctors who said it would be impossible for me to recover completely. Angry at the suicide bomber, who shattered my life into pieces. And that anger made me determined. I wanted to show that I was stronger than they thought I was. So I showed them,' now she stood in front of Tony's desk, who didn't looked up. His hair was messy and he was wringing his hands together like he was the one who could use a stress ball.

He would not talk to her about this. No way. It wasn't her right to know what was going through his mind over and over again. He didn't need to talk about things. He wasn't like her. His lips where sealed.

'There was this one girl,' he suddenly blurted. The moment he started he wanted to smack his own head. Well, fine, he could talk a bit. It was about Annabelle, not about himself. Everyone should know about Annabelle.

Jenny looked surprised at him. 'I thought you couldn't . . .' she said somewhat hesitant. It took a minute before Tony got her point.

'Director. She was seven,' he clenched his jaws together once more. He didn't want to think about women. The doctors had told him that 'performing' would be practical impossible. So he had banned women from his life. No need to think about that. No dates, no sex. Who would date a man in a wheelchair anyway? He pushed the thoughts out of his head, and went on with his not-talking.

'Annabelle was the sweetest seven year old girl I've ever met. She was caught in a fire, in the middle of the night. Their house burnt down, her parents were dead, her little brother died in her arms, and she had burns in her face, on her arms and legs. . . And she was such a beautiful girl, I've seen pictures of her _before_ the fire. And although she had a lot of pain, she was so full of life, joyful, happy. It scared the hell out of me, because I wasn't happy. And the only one who died when I got shot, was that sick bastard who enjoyed abusing and killing children. Every time she saw me in the hallways of the hospital, she came to me, and tried to cheer me up. She tried to cheer everyone up. Everyone loved Annabelle. But she got an infection or something. They thought that she had passed that stage, apparently she didn't. She just . . . died,' Tony stopped rambling and took a deep breath. Yes, talking about Annabelle helped, it made him feel better. As if some of the weight on his heart was lifted. He looked up at Jenny, who apparently hadn't moved.

'She was the only good thing about that whole damned hospital. She was able to let me believe in a good ending. But suddenly she was gone. I started to loath it. The people, the nurses, the doctors, the shrink, the gym. I hated the gym. I went in there every day, two hours in the morning, and two hours in the afternoon. It didn't work a bit. They poked me with things in my feet, but I didn't felt anything. If someone decides to cut off my feet in the middle of the night while I'm sleeping, I won't notice a thing!! And every time that idiot of a shrink walks in my room, and he is like: how are you feeling today Anthony? What are your feelings toward the person who put you in here Anthony? How do you cope being here without your dad visiting Anthony? Are you angry about that Anthony? Are you still angry about the things he did to you Anthony? And then they thought it was strange that I really got fed up with that moron, and I started yelling at him and he ran out like a little scared puppy. After that he wanted to speak with me, so I went to his room, said that he was a useless shrink and that I fired him. I went back to my room, never saw that moron again. After that it I got a routine. I woke up, ate some breakfast – which is, by the way, still the same old gross hospital food as ever – a nurse brought me to the gym, I worked my butt of for nothing, went back to my room, ate some of the gross lunch, went back to the gym, worked my butt of for nothing, got back in my room and waited for you guys to come visiting. And ate some horrible diner, of course,' finally he went quiet again. He didn't know where his talk about Annabelle changed in talking about his stay in the hospital. Somehow it just happened during talking. He saw that Jenny still hadn't moved.

'You really hated it there, didn't you?'

'Is it that obvious?'

'Well, your speech certainly didn't leave room for doubting that part. But didn't you talk with people? I heard you had some fans in the hospital?'

'That was different. After Annabelle died, some things changed. Don't know how really, at one point I was going to rehab, and someone stopped and talked with me, the next day I went all over that place and talked with everyone. At least I could let other people smile, although I didn't smile for myself much. I just tried to make things better for them, like Annabelle had done before she died,'

Jenny looked at him thoughtful. She wondered if he always thought it was his job to make other people laugh. Before she could ask, his desk phone rang.

'DiNozzo . . . I'm on it boss. Are you almost done there? . . . Okay, I'll get on it,' He started to write things down, the phone between his shoulder and head. Jenny grabbed her files, and walked back to her office.


	6. Solution

_Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing._

_A/N: Again many thanks to my beta-reader NcisRulez, who made this chapter readable ;)_

_Enjoy reading, and don't hesitate to leave a review!_

* * *

**Solution**

A few hours later Gibbs, Ziva and McGee returned from their murder scene. They looked dirty, with mud on their clothes, Ziva had leaves in her hair and black sweeps across her face. McGee's pants were soaked beyond recognition, even Gibbs looked ruffled.

'Where are you going?' Gibbs threw his jack behind his desk. McGee had a pair of dry pants in his hands.

'Ehm, going to change Boss,' he answered.

'No you don't. You and Ziva show everything to Tony, update him on the things you found and he does the same to you. When you're done _th__e__n_ you can go and change,'

'But . . .' McGee started. Gibbs smacked his head while he passed him. 'Yes Boss,' McGee murmured. He walked back, and started to show the photos of the crime scene on the plasma. A few minutes later they were completely focused on the case.

Gibbs stood on the balcony before MTAC, in his hands a large cup of coffee, and looked down at his team. Ziva was sitting on the edge of Tony's desk, McGee was busy with doing some stuff on his computer, while talking to Tony, who was sitting in front of the plasma screen and pointing things out that had his interest. Sometimes office supplies flew through the bullpen, and at one point Ziva held her knife in front of Tony – Gibbs guessed she threatened to stab him if he didn't quit with whatever he was doing to annoy her. For a moment, it felt if things were like they used to be. If only he could get Tony to talk about the things that had happened. Getting him into the office was working to a certain point, but he had heard how he had rambled to Jenny. They shared the same thought: Tony didn't allow himself to show his weaknesses. It was as if he thought he wasn't important enough, that his pain didn't count. So he tried to cheer everyone up, except himself. It explained the way he had acted during visiting hours. He had joked around, cheered Abby up when she was in tears because of the news he needed a wheelchair. He had flirted with the nurses when they came in to check his vitals. He had made jokes about binding rockets onto his chair so he could capture running suspects, because they never stood still when they were asked to. But he had seen it; the dark, haunted look in his eyes when he thought no one was looking at him. Gibbs knew Ziva had seen it too, because when _she _thought no one noticed her, she looked worried. And even though maybe that haunted look had disappeared somewhere in the afternoon that he was back at his desk, Gibbs knew it wasn't over yet. Maybe things hadn't even started yet. He took the last sip of his coffee, and walked down the stairs to his team.

They went over the case until it was late in the evening, and they were the only ones who were still working. When they were completely sure that they knew everything they could possible know to this point, Gibbs decided to send them home.

'McGee, can you give DiNozzo a ride?' he asked, when Tony and Ziva were down to the lab. He didn't want to ask this while he was in the bullpen, because he didn't want to make Tony feel as if he was a burden. When did you became soft, Gunny? Flashed through his brain.

'Uhm . . . Can't you do it Boss?' McGee asked after a silence. He had turned his computer off, his wet pants had disappeared in a plastic bag, and he was ready to leave.

'If I could, I wouldn't ask you,' Gibbs said. 'Got plans?'

'Well . . . no . . . not exactly, it's just . . . I can't do it,' McGee said. Gibbs raised his eyebrows and looked at McGee more intently. There was something McGee wasn't telling him.

'Is it because of the wheels?' he asked bluntly. The red glow on McGee's face said enough. 'It's still the same old 'very' Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, McGee, even if he can't walk yet,'

'I know,' McGee nodded, still blushing, but relieved that Gibbs didn't yell at him.

'So what's the problem?'

'Because I don't want to be larger than he is,' McGee said after a long silence. Gibbs felt that he didn't just meant larger as in length, but larger as in the better agent.

'You are an excellent agent, McGee,' he said – still somewhere wondering why he didn't just smack him on the head.

'But Tony is the better field agent,' McGee answered. 'And I know that. I don't mind that. But . . .' he stopped talking when he heard the elevator bell, announcing Tony and Ziva back. Knowing that they were off duty anyway, he quickly gathered his things and with a last goodbye he hurriedly left the bull pen, before Gibbs could call him back. Instead of calling him back, Gibbs rubbed his face with his hands.

'Ziva,' he started.

'Yes?'

'Can you give Tony a ride? I am not done yet and I don't want him to become me. Not yet at least,' he smirked.

'Sure, no problem,' Ziva smiled. 'I am not sure if Tony will like it, yes?' she grinned at Tony, who turned a little pale.

'Boss, you know her way of driving! Is there no other option?' Gibbs looked up thoughtfully.

'Well, you could always wheel yourself,' he offered. 'But don't worry, Ziva's driving has improved lately,' he smiled when Tony was openly relieved. He waited until they were in the elevator. 'A bit,' he added laughing.

'How the hell will this fit?' Tony asked friendly at Ziva. They were standing at Ziva's Mini Cooper, the trunk open. He thought it didn't look big. It looked small. Too small.

'Why don't you get in the car, I will work it out,' Ziva said.

'Fine by me,' he said, and he moved his wheelchair around.

'Need help?' Ziva offered, suddenly remembering that maybe he had trouble getting into the car. She looked around the car, to see if he could manage.

'I'm good,' Tony opened the door, placed himself next to the seat, set his brakes on the chair and leant with one arm on the chair. With the other he heaved himself up, and swung himself in the car. Ziva took his wheelchair, and after some hustling she managed to fold it in, and placed it in her trunk. Five minutes later they left the gates.

'What's wrong Tony?' Ziva asked after a few minutes. She looked at Tony, who looked somberly out of the window. He didn't even wince when she passed a car and swayed back to the lane when a car approached quickly.

'Did McGee have plans tonight?' he asked casually.

'Not that I know of,' Ziva answered. 'Why?' She gave another look in his direction and now he did wince.

'Keep your eyes on the road!' he insisted with a hint of panic in his voice. Ziva laughed, and passed three cars at once. Tony sighed, closed his eyes and held on tight to the door handle. 'It's nothing, I guess,' he answered.

'Okay, then it's nothing,' Ziva smiled, she turned sharply to the right, ignored the red traffic lights and drove on. Tony had peeked through one eye, and saw the world almost going upside down.

'They have rules for a reason, you know!'

'I like to see them more as guidelines than as rules,' Ziva said happily, speeding up a bit more. Tony looked at her, and saw the glittering in her eyes.

'Pirates of the Caribbean, The Curse of the Black Pearl. Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow, who was nominated for an Oscar. He should have got it. Nice reference by the way,' he added. Ziva turned left, cutting the turn by driving in the wrong lane.

'But why did you asked about McGee's plans?'

'Well. I've just had a feeling that he didn't want to drive me home. He looked strange when he left, and Gibbs didn't say anything earlier about bringing me home, to you, so I figure he asked McGee. But if he didn't have plans, why wouldn't he drive me home? I mean . . . I know it sucks to have me around right now, but is it that bad?'

Ziva snapped her head in his direction, forgetting that she was driving, and the car almost hit the car that was driving next to them before she corrected the steering wheel.

'We are glad you are out of the hospital! Do you really think we don't want you around?'

'Well . . . McGee acted weird when I was released from the hospital,' he mocked.

'Don't you see it Tony? He hates it that you can't walk. He looks up to you, and now he suddenly he has to see that you aren't invincible, and that it isn't just a battle between life and death when we are out in the field. It scares him Tony!' She made another turn, cut in front of a truck, and drove through the last streets towards Tony's apartment.

'That's just stupid. I will tell him tomorrow that he should stop acting as a prick,' Tony decided angrily.

'No you won't. You have an appointment in the hospital tomorrow for a check-up,' Ziva parked in front of the building where Tony lived.

'No I don't,' he huffed. Actually he did, but he didn't feel like going.

'Are you going to tell that to Gibbs? He said he would take you,' Ziva opened the door, and walked to her trunk, where she pulled out the wheelchair. 'We can watch it, if you feel like it?'

'Watch what? Me being mishandled by some doctor who will say once again I won't be walking around anytimesoon?' Tony grumbled, getting himself in his wheelchair.

'Watching Pirates of the Caribbean I mean,'

'Oh. Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not really in the mood,' Tony answered. Ziva's eyes turned darker for a second. It was about the tenth time she had asked him if he wanted to watch a movie, and again he had turned her down. She watched Tony when he got out the car, in his wheelchair. With one last wave he wheeled to his apartment.

* * *

Tony sat in his kitchen, a deep frown on his head. He looked up at the cabinets above him.

'And why do you want to make lasagna DiNozzo? It's late, you should be sleeping, but noooo you are hungry,' he muttered. In the cabinets lay sauce. He wanted sauce. It was good sauce, it made the lasagna taste better than any other sauce. But of course he couldn't reach the cabinet. Because it was too damn high and he couldn't stand. Wait. He'dnever really tried it after he left the hospital. Maybe . . .

He rolled closer to the counter. The chair on brakes – you never knew – his hands on the countertop. Slowly he pulled himself up. He felt his muscles tremble slightly, but he didn't move faster. Finally, he stood up straight, still leaning heavily on his arms. So. That was the easy part. And the second part was the part he hadn't thought through. How could he let himself go? What if he fell? On the other side, it wasn't that he would feel pain or something. Tony took a deep breath. One. Two. Three!

He forced his muscles to relax and gave himself one little push away from the counter. He balanced for a second on his feet. A burst of hope flooded through is body. Was it possible?! Could it be that they where wro. . . With a loud crash he landed on the floor, missing his wheelchair by inches. Nope. They were right.

He lay there without knowing how long. Just laying, without trying to get up, not even trying to move. He just didn't have the willpower to do so. Why had he even tried? Why didn't he believe the doctors? Why did he always have to be so stubborn, that everything in his world collapsed? He could have known. No, he should have known. Because that was had happened when he fell in love with Jeanne. He knew he shouldn't have done it. He knew she was 'just a mission'. But he couldn't help himself. And it collapsed. He knew in the back of his mind that trying to stand was stupid. But he couldn't help himself. It was as if every time someone said that he shouldn't touch the fire, he did touch it because he wanted to feel the heat for himself.

Somewhere in the night, shivers running down his back, he decided that his bed was better than the cold floor. He grabbed his chair, and tried to get into it. A sudden pain flashed through his lower back. Tony gasped, and managed to get in his chair before he fell down onto the floor again. Where the hell did that pain come from! The pain disappeared as sudden as it had come. Maybe he was just too tired, and was imagining things. He left his kitchen, not even botheringtoclean it up. What was the use? Tomorrow it would still be there.

* * *

'What's the matter?'

'I don't want to go in,'

'They won't kill you,'

'They won't make me better,'

Tony and Gibbs were standing in front of the hospital. The sun shined, people were walking in and out the sliding doors and the benches in front of the hospital were taken by people who were apparently visiting patients. Gibbs took a sip from his coffee, one hand in his pocket.

'Do I need to push you again?' He finally asked. Tony sighed, and wheeled through the entrance.

They went through the hallways; an occasional nurse greeted Tony with a grin or a wave. After waiting about fifteen minutes in an abandoned waiting area, the doctor led them to his office.

'Good to see you Tony, how are you feeling today?'

'Besides the not-walking part, I'm okay,' Tony answered.

'That's good to know. We want to make a few x-rays if that's okay with you, so we can see if anything has changed,'

Well if that was the only thing they would do today, he couldn't care less.

'Anything unusual happened lately?' the doctor asked. He stood up, and gestured that Gibbs and Tony should follow him. Tony remembered the flash of pain he felt that night, but decided that it really was something he had just imagined. Gibbs however, saw the flash of surprised memory on his face.

'Tell him DiNozzo,' Tony looked up even more surprised. He took his space in the elevator between Gibbs and the doctor.

'It's nothing, really,' he insisted. Gibbs just glared at him. 'Fine, but I assure you it's nothing. Just my imagination. I thought I felt pain in my lower back last night, but I was tired and am sure it was just my mind playing tricks on me,'

'What were you doing when you felt the pain?' the doctor inquired. The left the elevator, and walked again to the hallways of the hospital. Tony remembered when he got lost the first few times he was in it. He knew the shortcuts by heart already; he really got into the hospital too much.

'Nothing much really,' the doctor gave him an incredulous look. 'I was hungry, so I tried to make lasagna. The sauce was in a cabinet I couldn't reach while I sat, so I pushed myself up by holding the counter. I lost balance, fell, and when I tried to get into my chair I thought I had a flash of pain, that's all,' Tony thought it wouldn't be wise to tell his doctor and his boss that he had tried to stand. His doctor would probably poke him around some more than really necessary and Gibbs would smack his head.

'Well, if anything has changed we will see it on the x-rays soon enough,' the doctor smiled. 'If you go in there and change, I'll prepare the equipment,' he disappeared through a door on his right. Gibbs and Tony took the other one, more to the left. He started to undress and getting into the hospital scrubs, when he saw Gibbs staring at him.

'What?'

'You know you can't stand up. Why did you try?'

'I had my chair parked right behind me! Wait. How did you know?'

'I didn't, you just told me. Did it hurt?'

Before Tony could deny it, a nurse walked in to get him to get his x-rays done.

Half hour later they sat again in the doctor's office.

'Well, Tony, we may have some good news here,' he started. 'Your imaginary pain apparently wasn't imaginary. The bone fragments that made it impossible to operate moved to a place where we can operate on you without any risks,' He turned on the lights, to show the x-rays that had been made of Tony's back. 'We can remove them, and at the same time we can try to connect the nerves in your spinal cord. That combined with a lot of rehabilitation sessions, means you can be back on your feet in a few months,' he pointed out the bone fragments that had caused him enough pain to last a lifetime.

Tony sat silent for a few moments. Did he really hear that right? He would be walking again? He would be able to kick his wheelchair out of his life? Or was he dreaming?

'Tony,' Gibbs said. He looked at the younger agent who just sat there and stared. 'You alright?'

Tony blinked a few times, and suddenly his face split in half, his eyes sparkled with pleasure, his whole posture seemed to shine with joy.

'I'm great! When can you do that surgery?'

'There is a waiting list, but I'll try to push you in front a bit. Give me a month,' the doctor smiled. He was glad he could finally deliver some good news, after months of misery.

They left the hospital again, and Gibbs noticed the huge difference in Tony's appearance. Finally there was some of the old DiNozzo back. He smiled, he laughed, he whistled when he saw a good-looking nurse, he talked suddenly about a movie that his condition reminded him of. And instead of shutting him up, like he used to do, Gibbs let Tony talk and babble and joke around. Because he had missed it.

They drove to NCIS headquarters, taking treats with them, on Tony's request. It took them over three hours, but after that Tony's lap was filled with everything he knew his teammates loved. When they entered the NCIS building, Tony asked if Gibbs could get Abby and Ducky, and he wheeled to the bullpen. Ziva and McGee were busy with investigating the girlfriend of their dead sailor when he came in.

'Hey Probie! Here, weren't this your favorites?' He tossed a box filled with caramel fudge to McGee, who barely caught it. Tony turned to Ziva and handed her another box with a big grin.

'What's this?' She informed, looking at it skeptically. She placed it on her desk, in front of her computer, and started to unwrap it.

'Just go see for yourself,' Tony laughed. He saw Ducky and Abby walking in, followed by Gibbs, and searched the contents of his lap quickly. He emerged a bowl painted with skulls from it, filled with black-and-white skeleton-sweets.

'Abby! This one is for you! And Ducky! I've got something good, I know you'll love it,' he handed Ducky a big basket filled with almost twenty flavors of English tea. He looked happily at his teammates, who looked back smiling, but a little confused.

'Tony. . . how did you get this?' Ziva asked, without taking her eyes off the contents of her box.

'Do you like it? I wasn't sure if it was the right stuff,' Tony asked, a hint of insecurity in his voice.

'No, it's perfect! I love halvah! I love chocolate halvah! How did you get it?'

'Doesn't matter. Oh, Gibbs, I've got something for you to,' he took the last package from his lap. It was small, square and tightly wrapped.

'What's this?' Gibbs asked in rough tone. How the hell did he found a way to buy him something without him noticing? He sat down on the edge of his desk, the package in his hand.

'Apparently the best coffee in the world,' Tony smiled. He couldn't help it, it was impossible not to laugh at the moment.

'Why are you getting us stuff Tony?' Abby asked, chewing on the leg of a skeleton. 'I mean, not that I don't like it, this is some fine candy, but you never was the sharing kind of guy,' she winked at him.

'The doctors had some good news. The bone fragments moved, and now they can perform surgery. I will walk again!'

The bullpen fell silent for a minute. Then Abby dropped her bowl on the floor, the skeletons scattered around, and gave him one of the biggest hugs she ever gave him. McGee started to laugh, left his desk and walked over to Tony. He grabbed a hand, and shook it fiercely. Moments later Ziva joined Abby in the hug – which was really not something she did often. Gibbs and Ducky just looked at each other. Ducky nodded, a content look on his face, and the corner of Gibbs' mouth went up a little. Yes. It was definitely good to have DiNozzo back. He looked at the package in his hand, and unwrapped it. _Kopi Luwak_ the small box read. Well, maybe it wasn't all _that_ good.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, it seemed to Tony as if the world had gained more colors. He couldn't remember being down, he even looked forward to getting through surgery. He did his exercises with more effort than before; he had cleaned his apartment out, with help from Abby, because he couldn't reach everything. They solved the case of the murdered sailor, who had pissed off his _two_ girlfriends because of cheating. One had lured him into the woods, the other had shot him. The ladies hadn't resisted arrest when they wore caught, they just yelled at each other for being stupid, dumb and useless.

It was still two weeks before the surgery, when Tony was showing Abby some tricks with his wheelchair in her lab. She had begged him to let her ride for a while, but just when he was about to cave Gibbs walked in.

'Don't even think about it,' he warned glaring at the two, who were looking busted and eyed sneakily to each other. Tony grinned and made a wheelie through the lab. Ever since he found out his wheelchair would be temporarily, he decided to invent some tricks in it.

'Quit it Tony. The hospital called. They want to operate you earlier,'

'When?'

'Tomorrow,'

* * *

_A/N: Halvah is a Israeli sort of candy. _

_Kopi Luwak is the most expensive coffee in the world. It's coffee made from coffee berries which have been eaten by and passed through the digestive tract of the Asian Palm Civet (according to Wikipedia). So basically it's coffee made of the crap of an animal._


	7. Doing a Happy Dance

_Disclaimer: Not mine. I gave up on the thought of owning them, so now I'm trying to build a time machine so that September comes early ;)_

_A/N: Okay, maybe I've should said this earlier, but better late than never: I don't know much about hospital/surgery procedures. I've been in the hospital once for a knee surgery, and that was in and out the same day. If you come across mistakes: just remember it's fiction :P _

_Any grammar/spelling mistakes that are left in this chapter are mine too by the way, I've rewritten some stuff after being beta'd - and about beta-reading: I want to thank NcisRulz for doing it, you've been a great help :)_

* * *

**Doing a happy dance**

Ziva sat in an uncomfortable plastic seat, her head leaning against the wall, her eyes closed. Someone who didn't know her would think she was at ease, but she was paler than usual. On her left sat McGee, once in a while readjusting in his chair, unable to get comfortable or relaxed. Next to McGee sat Ducky, who just sat and looked at the other two people in the small square room. Abby was pacing up and down, with Bert in her arms. She squeezed it every time a nurse or doctor walked by, but they never stopped to talk to them. Gibbs stood in front of the window in the corner of the waiting room. He looked calm and undisturbed, but Ducky saw how he had his fists clenched together behind his back. He was as anxious as they all were.

It had been three hours since they waved to Tony for the last time. They all had given him their best wishes. He had smiled, with his thumbs up and was taken out of sight by the nurses. They hadn't had an update since. Another thirty minutes went by, and finally the attending surgeon appeared in the door. He looked at the five faces that were filled with anticipation.

'Are you family of Anthony DiNozzo?' he asked.

'Not technical, but we're the closest thing he has to a family,' Gibbs answered.

'Well, okay then . . .' his hesitation almost got the better of Ziva, who reached her hand behind her back to get her knife. Ducky, who was standing next to her, saw her movement and grabbed her arm.

'At least wait until we get the results,' he murmured with a small smile.

'The surgery went smoothly. We were able to remove all the bone fragments, and we reconnect some nerves in his spinal cord. So I can say that, with a lot of rehabilitation, of course, he will be able to get back on his feet again. He is in a recovery room right now, and should be waking up within the hour, after that someone will show you where his room is, if you have any. . .' his pager beeped frantically and he gave it a quick look. 'Sorry, I've got to go,' and he walked quickly out the waiting room, leaving a very relieved team behind.

* * *

Tony had his eyes closed when he heard them enter. He had slept almost all day after the surgery, and when he had seen them, he was groggy from anesthesia. But now it was visiting hour, the day after the surgery. He heard them whisper something, and he tried to suppress a smile.

'Please tell me you've got pizza,' he said. 'I haven't had a decent meal since yesterday, 'cause I wasn't allowed to eat before surgery. And that hospital food just doesn't cut it. I'm starving!' he opened his eyes, and laughed at his teammates, who were looking at him as if he could break or something. He grunted. 'No pizza? Come on guys, I thought I had taught you better than that,' A moment later Gibbs appeared behind them. He held his hands up high, carrying a big, flat, square pizza box. Ducky pushed Ziva and McGee in to the room, so that Gibbs could get true.

'Thank you Boss! You know what a DiNozzo needs after surgery!' He opened the box eagerly, and shoved a slice in his mouth. He gestured with his hands that they should get some too, and the pizza box was soon empty.

'When will your exercises start?' Ziva asked after a silence. She sat on his bed, her legs crossed.

'Don't know yet, they want to get my back healed before I can do them,' Tony took another bite.

'You know we will help you again, right?' Abby smiled happily from the window still. She had placed Bert on the bedside table, right next to her pitch-black roses and a bunch of 'Get Well Soon' cards.

'Knowing you guys, it wouldn't help if I refused right?' Tony grinned. Suddenly he grabbed the pizza box and stuffed it under his bed. The others looked up, and saw a nurse walking in.

'I did see that,' she said with a stern voice but a smile on her lips.

'Sorry Marla, won't happen again,' Tony gave her his best 'You know you love me' smile.

'Why do I have a hard time believing that? I'm here to check on you,' she looked around at his guests, and gave Tony a look.

'They can stay,' he assured her.

'Fine by me,' she murmured. She took his file, and looked through it. 'Okay, I need to check your back, so I will bend you over a bit,' Marla carefully helped Tony up, who grimaced at the movement. She pulled up his scrubs, and attended his bandages quickly and skillfully.

'It's looking good so far. How about testing if they connected the nerves correctly?'

'Isn't that a bit soon?' Tony hesitated, leaning back. Suddenly he was afraid. What if the surgery hadn't worked out? He didn't want his friends to see his failure. It was painful enough that they saw him in a wheelchair every day.

'Don't worry about that, it may take some days before your body responds to the connections,' Marla reassured him. 'Okay, you know the routine. Close your eyes, and just tell me what you feel,' Tony obeyed, closed his eyes and laid his head back.

Marla took a pen out of her jacket, and with the top she pressed hard in his heels. Immediate Tony pulled is feet back. He sat up straight, not sure what had happened. Marla smiled satisfied, and placed the pen back in her pocket.

'Just be sure to take it easy and to complete your rehabilitation. But I think you'll be fine,' she said, and she left the room, leaving Tony behind with a smile that could light up a room. He didn't hear how Ziva and McGee and Abby were laughing and cheering, he didn't see the smile on Ducky's face. He only saw Gibbs, the nod, the reassurance, the smile that was only there in his eyes. He had made it. Now it was time to learn how to walk again.

* * *

So he trained again. He went in rehabilitation every day, practicing and practicing. The doctors ordered him to take it slow, but Tony didn't want to take it slow. He had only one thing in his mind, and nothing could get that thing out of his head. When he wasn't in rehab, he was in his room and trained the muscles in his legs. He had every day his personal assistant to train him, only it was always a surprise who it would be. Tony liked it when Ziva came over. She was fun to have around; he teased her with her idioms – or idiots, like she had started to call them. And he had to admit, some of the idioms where pretty idiotic. But the best part of having Ziva around was that she always found ways to push him in doing his exercises, even if he didn't want to.

The days that McGee came over weren't the best days. McGee really tried, but they always ended up doing other stuff than training. Like trying to talk nurses into a date, or sneaking in pizza again. And somehow, Tony ended always up with laughing so hard he almost choked, because he had tricked McGee in doing something stupid, again.

When Ducky was the one on duty, Tony sometimes felt himself slide away in some state between dreaming and being awake. It was the only way to go on with training his muscles and not listening to the stories the ME told. Sometimes they were pretty good, but when he started talking about cricket, Tony just shut his ears and ignored the talking. It wasn't very nice, but at least he didn't start snoring. It wasn't that he didn't liked cricket. After all, he had played it one semester at college. But after two hours cricket-talk he really was tired of it.

Abby really was just terrible at helping him train. She couldn't help it, she just was too much. She moved around too quick, talked too much, was too afraid to push him. After the first week, Gibbs decided that she wasn't allowed to help him, so she just came by to visit.

But after all was said and done, it was Gibbs with whom Tony gained the most progress. Somehow he knew exactly the right words to say when Tony was tired of working out. It was mostly a mix between humor, threats, and encouragement.

'I won't let Abby install rockets on your chair DiNozzo,'

'Maybe I just should toss you**r** chair out of the window?'

'The doctors say you can. Abby, McGee, and Ziva believe you can. I know you can. Just do it DiNozzo!'

Besides that, Gibbs was the only one who could convince Tony that he needed to take it easy.

'What's the use! I want to walk out of this hospital, I'm sick and tired of those wheels!'

'Believe me DiNozzo, you're not the only one. But if you don't take your time to recover, then I am forced to learn to work with some moron the director picked. It's not that she doesn't know any good field agents, but I don't look forward to train a new one if I got one who is perfectly capable of doing the job. So you will take it easy, or you will have desk duty for three months,' Gibbs saw that Tony wanted to say something. 'And that will be three months after your recovery DiNozzo, so you better listen!'

Even after that talk – which Tony did took serious enough - it took them four weeks, which was less than half the time the doctors had estimated, to complete the whole list of required workouts that the doctors had ordered. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon that he was brought to the rehabilitation centre once again. His doctor, Ducky and Gibbs where waiting for him.

'What's up Doc?' Tony asked, sounding like Bugs Bunny. His doctor smiled.

'We think you might be ready to try the next level. The only question is if you are ready?' Tony felt his heartbeat increasing, adrenaline started to rush.

'Let's do this thing,' he nodded, his voice more convincing than he felt himself.

'Just take it easy, remember that you legs still are quite weak,' the doctor instructed. They went over to the wall, where there were two bars placed next to each other. They could be moved up and down, depending on the height of the patient.

'Your wheelchair will fit exactly between those bars. The nurse will help you up, you lean on the bars, and when you think you are ready you put more weight on your feet. If you think you can't manage, you can sit back down immediately. Any questions?'

'No, not really,' Tony rolled to the bars, and with the help from the nurse he worked himself up. Gibbs followed his movements carefully, his eyes not leaving his agent. Somehow he had a bad feeling about this. It was as if it had gone too easy. With DiNozzo you never could predict the events, but you knew one thing for sure: it never, ever, went down easy. Ducky was talking softly with the doctor about the progress Tony had made.

Tony was leaning on the bars on his own now. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about the night he tried to stand up. He had failed miserably. Don't think about it Tony**. **That was before the surgery. This will be different. This has to be different. Easy now. Your feet are on the ground, you are in the freaking hospital, and there is nothing that can go wrong. Just breathe. In. Out. Question: beneath which plant you can't sit for more than two minutes before you're dead? Oh come on Anthony, not the time for jokes. It's a water lily of course. Haha. Now, where were you? Right. Walking. No, first standing, and then walking.

Slowly he put more weight on his feet. Finally his feet were flat on the ground. He actual could feel the carpet beneath his feet. He hadn't noticed at first, but suddenly he felt the soft tickling of dust at his feet. He looked up, and flashed a 10,000 watt smile at his audience.

'I can feel it! I can feel the rug that's here!' He had never been happier with just feeling something as simple as that. He knew he sounded like a little kid, but he couldn't help himself. If he could he would do a happy-dance.

'That's a good sign, Tony,' his doctor nodded content. 'Can you now try to stand without holding the bars?' Gibbs looked at the doctor with a hint of a glare in his eyes.

'Is that wise?'

'Well, if we don't try it now, we can practically wait forever. He has to try it sometime,' the doctor said.

'The doctor has a point, Jethro. It is the only way to know for sure if Anthony is able to walk again,' Ducky added.

'Okay, here we go,' Tony mumbled. He felt how he stood on the carpet. He felt the weight on his feet, he tensed his muscles slightly. After taking in one deep breath, he looked up again, his eyes fixated at Gibbs. And he let go.


	8. You should have told me sooner!

_Disclaimer: Still not mine_

_A/N: Guess who's back! Sorry for not updating sooner, but there was something that called a holiday. Had the the best holiday ever, really. Almost three weeks of camping, took my computer with me (yes you read that right) like almost 1100 other people did too (it's called Campzone, an outdoor LAN party of 11 days). Seen friends again, had very much fun, destructed my biorhythm (waking up every day at 10, going to sleep every night around 4, not the best recommendation), met new friends, relaxed a lot. Before I went away, I had a little bit of a writers block, but I've got the feeling that is gone too. So have fun with this next chapter, if you feel like it, leave a review - I wouldn't mind._

_Many thanks to my beta-reader, NcisRulz, for trying to fix my errors. If there are any left, don't blame her, blame me :)_

* * *

**You should have told me sooner!**

'Are you sure?'

'We've done three checkups on his body. We've put him through CT scans, MRI scans and made another series of x-rays. Everything shows us the same!'

'And that is?'

'Like I said before, physically his body is in perfect condition. There is nothing that blocks his ability to walk. If I didn't know any better I would say that the minute he wakes up, he could stand up and walk away!'

'But he won't,'

'You've seen exactly the same thing as I did. He fell down the first time; he crashed down the second time and the third time. . .'

'He smacked his head against the wall, I know.'

'There is a chance that he did work too hard on his rehabilitation. But there is also a chance that there is something mentally blocking his system. I've seen it before, we can nothing do about either of those.'

'Who can?'

'Only he can. And no, Special Agent Gibbs, I don't know how he can do that. There is no medical cure for this.'

Tony's brain slowly comprehended the words he heard. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to. He knew a few things for sure already; he heard Gibbs, who sounded mad, worried and frustrated at the same time. Worry wasn't something that he heard very often in the voice of his boss. If he was worried, things were definitely wrong. He tried to remember what had happened. The standing thing. Yeah, that was it. After the standing thing came the falling thing. They waited for a few days, tried again. Yep, he had crashed at that one too. And they had done tests and stuff. He had hated that part. And after waiting - again - there was the time that the whole world went black. He couldn't remember smacking his head against the wall, but it did not surprise him the least. It would surely explain the headache he had. Maybe it would stop if he just slept a bit longer. . .

* * *

It was late when Ziva arrived at the hospital. Visiting hours were over, but she didn't really care. Getting in without being seen was not that hard. Of course, the fact that this wasn't a highly guarded Hamas weapon depot certainly helped. Quietly she moved through the hallways, without being noticed. She slid through the door, and leant against it. Tony was lying on his side, fast asleep. He was probably warm; the sheets were kicked down to his waist. Without making a sound, Ziva sat down on a chair beside his bed. Suddenly Tony opened his eyes.

'I thought you were sleeping,' Ziva said, a little startled. Tony stayed silent for a few minutes, just looking at her. Ziva saw lines in his face that weren't there before.

'You know it's past visiting hours?' he finally said with a small smile.

'Those are guidelines, right?' Ziva's face didn't show emotions, but her eyes were sparkling. She placed her slender legs up Tony's bed, stretching herself out a bit and sliding down the chair until she felt comfortable.

'What is up with you and that movie?' Tony wrinkled his eyebrows.

'Maybe I have a thing for pirates, yes?'

'So if I come at your door with an eye pad and a wooden leg, you would dig that?' Tony gave her a cocky smile.

'When you are up again. . . try it, and you'll find out,' Tony looked away. With some difficulty he turned onto his back, and looked at the ceiling. It looked liked it could use a paint job.

'Well, maybe you need to look for another pirate, 'cause this one isn't going anywhere fast,' he sounded darker then he intended, but he couldn't help it. Ziva looked at him intently. It was dark in the room, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes and on his face.

'You should sleep,' she said.

'I can't Ziva. Every time I fall asleep, I start dreaming,' Tony gave a wry smile.

'What's wrong with dreaming?'

'You never have nightmares?'

Ziva looked down, repressing emotions that tried to surface. She knew everything about nightmares. Ari standing in the basement, laughing manically, Gibbs on his feet, dead. Tali, yelling at her for letting her die. Sometimes she woke up, drowning in sweat, because she saw Tony or McGee getting killed.

'Sometimes,' she managed to say.

'I don't know about yours, but mine are. . . well my life at the moment sucks pretty much, and when I dream it's even worse,' he laughed hoarsely, but the smile didn't reached his eyes. 'It's like my body is saying, you know what DiNozzo, forget about your job, I don't feel like doing it,'

'What do you mean?' Ziva looked confused. Tony looked at her, searched her eyes. He thought Gibbs had told them already but apparently he hadn't.

'I'm done Ziva. Walking is impossible. So my job at NCIS is out the window. I'll be discharged pretty soon, and then I've got to go and find another job. Another life,' he said it in the most nonchalant way he could, trying to sound as if he was okay with that. Ziva's eyes widened with shock.

'They are sure about that?'

'I've been tested like some lab rat. They couldn't find anything, said it was probably some mental thing. Which is pretty dumb, because it's not that I like that wheelchair. So yeah, I'm sure about it. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo will be pretty soon civilian Anthony DiNozzo. Disabled Anthony DiNozzo, to be precise,'

'You can't give up already Tony! You're . . .'

'What! I've been like this for more than six months. I'm done! Seriously, don't try to give me the 'it will be fine' speech, because this is how it's going to be! Forever! And if you can't accept that, Ziva David, then that's your problem!!' He sat up halfway, yelling at her, his face red from anger and frustration, his fists clenched as if he was ready to punch someone, anyone. Ziva looked at him, and suddenly became mad.

'You know what DiNozzo, when you're done feeling sorry for yourself, give me a call! I won't try to help you when you are the one who throws in the mop!' She got up, opened the door and closed it with a bang, leaving the hospital room without looking back. As sudden as the rage had boiled up in Tony, it was gone. He lay down, looking at the door.

'It's towel, Ziva. Throwing in the towel,' he closed his eyes again. He didn't want to be so mad at Ziva. Well, he wasn't mad at her. He was mad at the doctor who had talked about talking with a shrink. He was mad at his own body, which had abandoned him. He was mad at the guy who had shot him. He was just mad at the world, because everything had fallen apart. His life was over. If the doctors couldn't help him, what was the use in trying? He had tried. And he had failed. Keeping on trying and keeping on failing was harder than just accepting the facts. If he couldn't walk, fine. So be it. It wasn't as if he needed his legs to be happy. Or his job. Definitely not. Maybe, if he said it often enough, he would believe it himself one day.

* * *

The day after his 'conversation' with Ziva, he was discharged from the hospital. His doctor had suggested talking to a psychiatrist, and Tony had said he would make an appointment when he got home. He didn't. He did made arrangements to get a car that he could drive himself, so he wasn't dependent on the others. In his apartment he had some things changed, so that it was easier to live in. Bars in the toilet for support. A chair in the shower so he could use it without help. The kitchen sink was made lower, and the kitchen cabinets in the top were emptied, their contents shoved in a lower cabinet. Tony even went back to the office, and did desk duty. A week after his return the Director had suggested that he should get another desk, in another part of the building, but Gibbs had refused, even before she had finished talking.

'No way in hell Jen. Forget it. He stays at his desk. I don't care if he'll be on desk duty forever. You can reinstate a new field agent, but you will not take Tony away from his desk,'

'There is no point in letting him stay at his desk, Jethro. He is not a field agent anymore!'

'I know, Jen. I gave him the papers myself. He signed them. But if you move him somewhere else in this building, I won't be able to see how he's doing!'

'He is a grown up man Jethro. He can take care of himself,' Jenny gave Gibbs a stern look.

'If you think he can, Director, you really have no idea about whom or what DiNozzo is,' with those words Gibbs walked out of her office, leaving Jenny to her own thoughts.

* * *

At the same time McGee was at Abby's lab, they were working together to find a lead in one of the many databases they had access to.

'How is he doing Tim?' Abby asked suddenly. McGee looked up for a moment. Abby hadn't taken her eyes off of her computer screen, but she wasn't typing. He knew who she was talking about. She knew he knew.

'I don't know Abs. He looks fine, he acts normal, but something's . . .'

'. . . hinky?'

'Yeah, I guess you could say that. He looks different. And it's not his wheelchair,' he added quickly. 'I'm used to it now. He laughs, but he isn't happy,' McGee stopped talking again, and thought about it for a moment. 'Do you remember when Gibbs was in Mexico and when Tony was team leader?'

'Of course I do Timmy! Why do you ask?'

'Do you remember how Tony was? He had a . . . a drive or something. He pushed us to get better results. He pushed himself to be the best agent possible. Do you remember that?'

'Yeah I do. He was like a pit-bull on some cases, not willing to let go. But what has that to do with how he is now?'

'That drive is gone, as if he doesn't care about anything anymore. Do you know he traded in his Mustang?' Abby looked up, shocked.

'He sold his Mustang? But he loved that car! When he bought it, he didn't stop talking about it until Gibbs threatened that he would drive it off a cliff!'

'You get my point?'

'That's bad McGee,' Abby gave him a punch with her fist on his arm.

'Hey, what was that good for?'

'You should have told me sooner!'


	9. Bravo 51

_Disclaimer: still not mine. Did order by post, so maybe at the end of the week..._

_A/N: wow, another chapter :o I have to be honest, this one was part of chapter 8 but in my opinion it was a bit too long, so I cut it into 2 chapters. Tips/ideas/suggestions are always welcome, same goes for REVIEWS :P _

* * *

Ziva had noticed the change in Tony's behavior too. But she refused to talk about it in any way. She still got mad when she remembered their fight in the hospital. But she couldn't _not_ care. He was in her mind almost every minute when she was in the bullpen. Even when she was working on a report, it bothered her. Now she tried to read a cold case file, vaguely remembering it could have something to do with their latest case, the murder of a young woman, but after a few minutes she found herself looking over the report to the desk on the other side of the bullpen. Tony was typing fast and apparently concentrating.

'Something to tell me David?' Tony asked without looking up.

'That depends,' Ziva dropped the case file on her desk. Tony stopped typing and looked at her, waiting. 'If you've got an apology to give me,' Ziva was as blunt as Tony was. If he could play that game, he wasn't the only one. Tony stared at her a few minutes. His face was blank, emotionless. He always seemed to be without emotions these days. When he made a joke, he didn't mean it; he just did it because his teammates expected him to. When he smiled, the smile never went up to his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' he said. Without waiting for an answer, he started to type again. Ziva got her knife, and resisted the urge to throw it at him. It wouldn't change a thing. She had to try other ways to get to him. She didn't care if he got mad at her; actually she was really sorry about walking away from his room in the hospital. But it was either that or strangling him with her bare hands. She didn't understand why he did this to himself. If it was necessary to get him mad at her, so that he would show how he really felt, it would be a small price to pay. So if she got the chance, she would definitely grab it.

* * *

Jenny had made her decision: after the case that Gibbs and his team were handling now, a new field agent would join the team. She found an agent who she thought could handle the job. His name was John River, 31 years old, and he had been NCIS agent for almost five years in San Diego. He was good at his job, and his former team leader wasn't happy that he wanted to transfer, but let him go eventually. He would work with them until the case was solved, after that he would be a fully operational field agent. It was Friday afternoon when John walked into the bullpen, where only Ziva and McGee were seating.

He carried a box with his belongings, and placed it on Tony's desk. Ziva saw it and frowned. Her eyes went to McGee, who looked up at the visitor. He had missed the box at first, but saw the nod Ziva gave with her head in the direction of the desk. McGee looked at it and made a determined face.

'I'm guessing you're the new field agent,' he said, and stood up behind his desk. He walked over to John.

'If this is where Gibbs' is seated, I am,' John smiled and offered his hand at McGee. McGee ignored it, and looked at the box at Tony's desk.

'Those your things?'

'Yeah,' John hesitated for a moment, his hand still in the air. Finally he retracted it, and placed it a bit uncomfortably in his pocket. 'So I'm guessing that's my spot?' he indicated at the same desk. 'I heard that your last field agent ended up in a wheelchair or something?' Ziva watched the conversation but hadn't moved.

'No that is not your place,' McGee answered the question. He took the box, pushed it into John's arms and pointed at the desk at the other end of the bullpen, behind his own desk. It was separated from the rest with a partition. '_That_ is your desk,' and without a further look he walked back to his desk and sat back down. His eyes met Ziva's, and she gave him an encouraging smile.

Minutes later Gibbs walked in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hands, and he tossed his jacket behind his desk. John stood up hastily.

'Special Agent Gibbs?' he asked.

'You are?'

'Special Agent John River, the new field agent,' John answered quickly. Gibbs looked at him a moment, and looked around.

'Where's your stuff?'

'Over there Sir. I was wondering if I couldn't sit right he . . .' he started. McGee froze for a second and looked up. Had he done the right thing?

'Who placed you over there?' Gibbs asked. John pointed at McGee.

'He did, Sir, but I thought that . . .' Gibbs walked over to McGee's desk and placed the coffee in front of him.

'Good job McGee. So, how are you on the report?'

'Almost ready Boss,' McGee looked surprised from the coffee to Gibbs and back. 'I know it's later than you wanted but . . .'

'Don't worry about it, take your time,' Gibbs smiled and walked back to his own desk. John looked confused, and still stood in the middle of the bullpen.

'Can I help you?'

'Ehm . . . do you have any work for me Sir?'

'Don't call me sir. Go down with Ziva to meet Abby, our forensic scientist, and Ducky, our ME,' he looked at Ziva who made a face. 'Be nice Ziva! Tell Abby the same,' Gibbs sighed. So the new guy arrived. He had read the file, and he appeared to be a good agent. Gibbs wondered how long he would stay. Trying to take Tony's desk wasn't the smartest thing he could have done. McGee didn't seem to like him, Ziva wasn't happy with his arrival and Abby . . . But Abby wasn't the worst. Tony didn't know yet. How the hell was he going to tell Tony that he was replaced in the field? At least he wasn't around when River walked in. But he could be back any minute with the lunch.

Ziva stood in the elevator next to John, who seemed nervous. Which wasn't strange, he had expected his arrival in D.C. to be different. Friendlier.

'Can I ask you something?' he tried.

'Sure,' Ziva didn't look at him.

'Why are you so . . . offensive? I know it must be hard to get a new member in a team, but it's not my fault that I'm replacing Special Agent DiNozzo,' Ziva reached out her hand, and pushed the emergency stop. She turned at her new partner and invaded, without hesitation, his personal space. He was a few inches taller than she was, and she could almost look straight into his eyes.

'You are not _replacing_ anyone. You are here _temporarily_ because Tony _will_ be back in the field. If you can't accept that, then I suggest you leave as soon as possible. Are we clear?'

'Very,' John murmured, and Ziva turned away to push the emergency stop. One thing was for sure. That DiNozzo guy really must be something special, if he wasn't even allowed to sit at his desk.

* * *

Minutes later when Tony arrived in the bullpen. He brought in the ordered lunch and placed the different orders on the desks. Gibbs took his, and looked at Tony, without saying anything.

'What's wrong?' Tony asked suspiciously.

'There is a new agent in the team,' Gibbs started. He watched Tony carefully. A hint of emotion came in his eyes, but then his expression became blank.

'Is he good?'

'Don't know yet,'

'Where is he?'

'Down to see Abby and Ducky with Ziva. I tried to convince her to play nice. I don't think it's necessary to get rid of him the messy way. Too much paperwork,' Gibbs' gave a hint of a smile. Tony forced a laugh.

'You sure that she didn't take her knife with her?'

'Nope. She's learned enough the last years. So did you,' he suddenly steered the conversation to a touchier subject. These days everything that was even remotely about Tony, was touchy. And yes, there it was again: it seemed as if he closed himself off from the topic, his eyes turned darker, a stubborn expression on his face.

'You're a good teacher Boss. Still wonder where you learned to teach like that,' Tony answered with a hint of a smile on his lips, and backed away to his own desk. He simply refused to talk about himself. When someone tried, he found within seconds a way to chance the discussion to another subject. He thanked his undercover experience for it. Gibbs knew exactly what he did and how he did it. Tony had been a very good undercover agent, and now he used every inch of experience to avoid being the subject of a conversation. Damn undercover ops.

Tony forced himself to keep working. He was done typing a report, and now he was going through some cold cases. He didn't want to stop working. Not working meant thinking. Thinking was bad. He didn't see that Gibbs was watching him, or that McGee was looking a little anxious.

Twenty minutes later Ziva and John returned from the lab. John saw Tony behind his desk, reading a report. He hesitated for a moment, after the very unfriendly ways he was treated downstairs, Abby had almost literally kicked him out of her lab, he didn't know how he needed to act. If he didn't introduced himself, things would be awkward later on. If he did introduce himself, things would be awkward immediately. Better get it over with then.

John walked over to Tony's desk, and smiled politely. 'Hi, you must be Anthony DiNozzo?'

Tony had stopped reading the report the moment his new colleague walked in. He hadn't looked up though: he hadn't decided how he would act. Being polite would probably make the transition easier for the team. Being a jerk would make feel him better. He finally looked up and smiled.

'Yes, I am. You are the new field agent I presume?' He offered a hand, which River shook with a hint of confusing in his eyes.

'That's right. I'm sorry that you ended up like this,'

'I'm getting used to it,' Tony lied without hesitation. John was surprised by the complete lack of hostility in Tony's voice and body language. It was a pleasant change though; probably the rest of his team had more trouble with adjusting to the new situation than the guy himself. He opened his mouth to say something when Gibbs' phone rang.

'Gibbs,'

'Yeah. Ok. Thanks for the heads up,' he hang up, grabbed his badge and gun. McGee and Ziva followed swiftly.

'You,' Gibbs nodded to River, 'Grab your gear, you're with me.' Seconds later the bullpen was almost empty. Tony sat at his desk, his eyes on the report in front of him. His mind however, was with the team that had just left the building. So this was how it's going to be. They would move out, he would stay behind. They would capture bad guys, he would type up reports. Because he was a field agent. He wondered why Gibbs even let him sit at his desk. Maybe because he wanted him to teach that River-guy all the tricks in his book? What else was he good for? They hadn't even looked at him. No words like 'see you soon' or something like that. No orders from Gibbs to look for something. They just left him. He started to wonder why Gibbs even let him stay on his desk.

The ring of his desk phone interrupted his dark train of thoughts.

'DiNozzo . . . Hey Abs how . . . sure, I'll be down in a minute,' He hung up the phone, and left his desk to join Abby in her lab. She never did that. Well, she probably got a call from Gibbs that the disabled one was lonely or something.

* * *

The week passed in a haze. It wasn't the kind of haze where things were happening so quickly that it was hard to keep track. It was the kind of haze that occurred when every day was the same as the previous and the next. Tony found it boring. He got sick and tired of people trying to cheer him up, or who came to him to talk to him, especially when they never had done it before. He felt immediately that they were searching for stuff to talk about. They tried too hard. So when they came along, he put on his everything-is-fine-smile combined with his I'm-so-sorry-but-I'm-kind-off-busy-attitude so that they would back off, feeling like they did him a favor. With a bit of luck they wouldn't come back. At a certain point he noticed that it worked with McGee and River pretty well to. But maybe that was because of the case that they were working on.

'Tony, what do you think?'

'About what McGee?'

'Our case,' he was nodding to the plasma screen. The last fifteen minutes he had been discussing with Ziva and River about who was most likely the serial killer they were after. They were standing in front of the screen, next to each other. Looking like a . . . team. Tony had been trying to work on another report. It turned out that most of the time he was staring in space, thinking about his old life. How he would stand there, discussing leads, suspects, tactics. God he missed it. Suddenly McGee had turned to him, as if he suddenly remembered that maybe Tony could help them out.

'Don't know Probie. You're kind of blocking the view,' Tony plastered a smile on his face. He wheeled around his desk, and looked at the plasma. Ziva stood left from him, McGee right, 'just like the old days' flashed through Tony's head. River stood behind them. He pushed the thought away, and inspected the pictures he saw.

'He has a thing for NCIS right?'

'Yeah, don't know really what's up with that yet. Every victim so far was somehow connected with us. Mary, 25 years, killed with a head shot. She was the girlfriend of an agent. Patrick, 45 years, head shot, intelligence department. Jocelyn, 31 years, head shot, lab tech. He has made three kills so far. First they thought it was 'just a serial killer,' only last week they discovered the connections with NCIS,' McGee made one last click with the remote and showed the three victims next to each other.

'Who are the suspects?'

'Actually, we are still trying to figure out how the victims are connected. You know, NCIS is pretty big, there must be something more right?'

'What are the connections so far?'

'You really want to know? Nothing, besides the way they are killed and the NCIS thing. Gibbs is on a warpath all day because we can't find more useful information,' McGee rolled his eyes. 'But they were all shot with a sniper rifle. A pretty familiar sniper rifle, I must say,' he looked at Tony intensively. Tony still looked at the pictures in front of him. All the three victims had a bullet hole between their eyes. Suddenly it clicked. He looked at McGee shell shocked.

'No . . .'

'Oh yes,' McGee nodded, his expressions somewhere between the pride of discovering and the shock of knowing.

'But come on! That's like three years ago!'

Ziva looked confused at first, but when she too looked at the pictures of the victims, it began to dawn on her. River had absolutely no clue what they were talking about.

'Do we know what the murder weapon was?' Ziva asked. She feared the answer.

'Abby discovered that the bullets where Lapau Brass. Shot with a sniper rifle. She wasn't one hundred percent sure, and she is still testing it, but the chances are that they were all killed with a - '

'Bravo 51,' Tony whispered. McGee nodded, Ziva turned a bit pale.

'But what does that mean?' John dared to ask.

'It means, that this killer is one sick bastard,' Gibbs answered his question. No one had heard him walking into the bullpen.

'Boss!'

'Got something?'

'Nothing more yet, sorry,'

'Just keep searching, okay? I've got a gut feeling that this isn't just a coincidence,' Gibbs tossed his coat behind his desk, and looked at his team.

'Well, what are you waiting for? I want to know everything about those people that there is to know. Every angle you can think of. Every minor connection possible. Go through cold case files, solved case files, every detail can be important. GO!' he walked out of the bullpen again, and took the stairs towards MTAC. Tony sat still shell shocked; McGee went back to his desk. Ziva kept looking at the pictures. River seemed a bit clueless.

'Can someone please inform me here?' he finally asked. They all were silent for a minute.

'About three years ago,' Tony started. 'We had Kate in our team,' he fell silent again, searching for words. McGee stepped in.

'Kate was killed by a Hamas terrorist. He had a thing against Gibbs, we still don't know what it was. He has tried to kill Abby too, he has held Kate, Ducky and his former assistant hostage in the morgue. After that he disappeared again, but when he returned he shot Kate through her forehead. The murder weapon was a . . .'

John understood. 'Bravo 51. Also known as 'Kate'. Well, that indeed is pretty sick,' he nodded.

* * *

_Brings back memories, doesn't it? I hope you like still like it :) Thanx for reading!_


	10. The Truth and Nothing but the Truth

_Disclaimer: not mine blablabla, not making money out of it, you know the drill._

_A/N: Yeah, another chapter! Everyone who reviewed: thanks! And everyone who set this story on Story Alert or Favorites, also thanks (but I love reviews, so I wouldn't mind if you left one ;)) _

_Did anyone saw the Season 6 Promo? It was short, but I loved it already :D  
_

_Hail to my beta-reader, NcisRulz! _

* * *

**The truth and nothing but the truth**

'Oh boy,' McGee reread the information he had dug up from somewhere, in some database.

'That never sounds good,' Ziva commented.

'Well, it isn't good,' McGee sighed.

'What are you waiting for! Tell us!'

'I will show you. This . . .' he showed a picture on the plasma screen 'is Michael Field who murdered five people about seven years ago. He had a weird thing for torturing and stuff like that. Gibbs chased him down to put him behind bars, but the chase ended in a firefight, and Gibbs shot him,'

'Well that's a good thing, right?' John asked.

'If it was, I wouldn't have said 'oh boy', now wouldn't I?' McGee snapped. He glanced to Tony to see if he heard it. He wanted to make sure that Tony knew he didn't want any other team member but him.

'Take it easy Probie, he has a point. So just hurry up with the riddle already,' Tony ignored McGee's face. He really tried to make things easier for the team, why didn't they want to see it?

'Fine. He has a brother, Dimitri, who served ten years in prison, because he shot people through the head with a Bravo 51 sniper rifle. He got released from prison two months ago,'

'That sounds like a suspect to me,' Tony said.

'Yeah, but why is he doing this?' John asked. 'Isn't it a bit too much of a coincidence?'

'There is no such thing as coincidences. And my guess is that he wants revenge for his brother. Where does he live Probie?'

'Last known address is somewhere in New York, the database is tracing right now, address should be coming in right about . . . now!'

'So let's go!' Tony once again forgot about his desk job, and was trying to get up when it hit him full force. He froze in his chair, mad because he had made himself vulnerable again. He looked around and saw the reactions on the faces of Ziva and McGee. They looked a bit afraid, a bit shocked, as if they didn't know what to expect from him now. John had already grabbed his badge and gun and waited for the elevator.

'Well, what are you waiting for? Go! Hurry!' he flashed a smile in their direction, and turned his back to them, looking in a drawer for some stuff. McGee looked at Ziva who shrugged her shoulders. What could they say? Everything would sound stupid. The moment Tony was sure they were gone, he closed the drawer with a smack. How many times would something like that happen? When would he get used to his wheels? To the idea that he wouldn't walk again?

'The drawer can't help it Anthony,' a soft voice sounded behind him. Tony grimaced.

'Maybe not, I'm guessing it's stuck a bit Ducky,' He turned his chair around, and rolled back behind his desk.

Ducky ignored his attempt to change the subject.

'You know that in China they have rooms where they can smash and break porcelain, to release some of the stress they endure at their working. The Asian people are known for their ability to work very hard, but it is very stressful at the same time. It is a funny thing that breaking things really does help them to cope with stress, don't you think?' Ducky smiled at the younger man in front of him. He was worried, like the rest of the team – well as far as he could tell, the whole agency was worried! Tony had turned in a little over six months from a confident agent, full of joy, a generous and easy smile, into someone who doubted himself, someone who hardly ever laughed. The spark in his eyes was gone, even after he came back to the office. The part that worried Ducky the most was that he refused to talk about the things that had happen. He simply ignored the subject, and Ducky had no idea why he did that. He did understood it to a certain point – Tony had a habit of avoiding subjects like this, but he also thought that Tony was smart enough to know that this was something he really should talk about.

'What are you saying Ducky? That I should break some stuff?'

'Who knows what it's good for?'

'Well, considering the fact that my job isn't very stressful, I doubt it would change anything,'

Ducky looked at him for a few minutes. His gaze was almost as penetrating as Gibbs', and Tony looked away. He didn't want to have this kind of conversations. It forced him to think about things he didn't want to think about.

'No one can force you to talk about anything, Tony. But I strongly suggest that you _do_ talk to someone, because if you don't it will eat you from the inside. Such a thing has been proven very bad for one's health. It can even kill you,' with those words he left the bull pen again. He hoped that he had convinced Tony a bit, but he was afraid his words hadn't helped.

* * *

'DiNozzo! Where are Ziva and McGee and Whatshisname?'

'They are going to talk to a guy named Dimitri Field, you know that guy who tortured people? His little brother likes to shoot with a Bravo 51 through someone's head,'

Gibbs stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Tony.

'Field? Michael Field?'

'That's the one. We think his little brother is on a revenge mission to get back to NCIS. He had done jail time for killing people with a sniper, but got released two months ago,'

'With a Bravo 51?'

'That's the one,' A silence filled the bull pen for a few moments. Kate never really was a subject between them. Not that they had forgotten about her, but with a high-pressure job it wasn't very smart to linger in the past.

'According to River it could be a coincidence. But you don't believe in coincidences, so they went to check it out,'

'They went out to check on guy who may be responsible for killing people with a 'Kate', who is probably a psycho, while I killed his brother years ago? DiNozzo! You should have stopped them! He is making this personal! Don't you see that! If anything happens to them . . .'

'But . . .' Tony looked at the back of his boss, who just disappeared in the elevator, while he was probably calling either McGee or Ziva. He should have stopped them? How the hell was he supposed to do that? Driving over them with his wheelchair? And since when was he hired as their babysitter? And what was that last thing? If something happened, it was _his _fault? That just wasn't fair! This had all started with him getting in this chair. He hated his chair. He hated his life. Well, screw them all. He had enough of those stupid reports anyway, and it was almost evening anyway. Tony left the bullpen, without even bothering to turn off his computer, or to clean up the files he was reading.

* * *

About an hour later, Gibbs returned with Ziva, McGee and River – all in one piece – back in the bullpen. Dimitri Field had not been at home, and his neighbors didn't know when he could be back. Gibbs took one look at the empty desk, and looked around. Well, maybe he had gone for a coffee or something, he tried to ease his gut. But his gut didn't leave him alone. You snapped at him, when he didn't deserve it. You basically told him it would be his fault if something had happened – and that was completely out of line, even for you. What if he got himself in trouble? He always could take care of himself, but now, in his condition . . .

It took him a half hour before he gave in. In that half hour he had snapped at McGee for being lazy (which he wasn't) at Ziva because she stood in his way (which wasn't her fault) and at River because he asked where the head was (which wasn't fair, because the poor agent had just joined the team). All and all, the mood in the bullpen had an icy temperature when Gibbs called Tony on his cell phone. No answer. Gibbs dialled again, now to Tony's home phone. No answer.

* * *

Tony had his mind set on one thing and one thing only. He wanted to get drunk. Getting wasted was the perfect way to forget about everything. He hadn't been in a bar for months, but he just wanted to get out. So he had driven to a club and gone in. It was a new place, not very fancy, but Tony didn't want fancy. He wanted to be left alone, without people who kept asking him all the time how he was doing. The bar he had gone to wasn't busy, it was still early in the evening. It was a cozy place, soft music playing, tables and stools scattered across the place. There was a pool table at the end.

It took him a few hours and a lot of whiskey but at some point Tony had to admit to himself that he was drunk. And when he was drunk, he sometimes had the tendency to babble. It didn't happen often, but when it happened there was no way around it.

'You know I had this colleague, gorgeous, annoying like hell. She was like a sister to me. Got shot in the head. And there was another one, I dated her a few times, but it never really went anywhere. She got killed because of saving me,' he rambled at the barkeeper. 'Oh and I almost died because I caught the plague. Can you imagine? It's the freaking twenty-first century and _who_ gets the plague? Oh yeah, that's me!'

The barkeeper just nodded a bit while he kept cleaning some glasses. He had worked in bars for plenty of years to know when to talk and when to listen. This guy needed to get things of his chest, badly.

'It's like everyone's dying around me. My mum died, my dad pretends I'm dead, I lost Katie and Paula. Do you think God is messing with me? I escaped death so many times that I stopped counting. These wheels? You would say a bullet in the back is enough to finish someone, but noooo DiNozzo has to survive,' he was silent again, looked at his whiskey and took a swig. He looked up thoughtfully.

'Sometimes I think it had been better if I was the one who got shot by Ari. I'm nothing more than a pain in the butt for my Boss, a waste of time and space for the agency and I've got the feeling that I really really really pissed off my partner. Who is pretty goddamn deadly. Hot, I must admit, but deadly. You should see her with a knife when she's pissed. It really is worth it to make her pissed, just so you can see that fire in her eyes,' another silence, another swig. He held the glass in the air, indicating he wanted a new one.

'Don't think so, DiNozzo. You had enough,' the voice from Gibbs sounded calm but anyone who knew him, knew he wasn't happy. Tony froze in his seat, grimaced at the barkeeper and turned half around to face his boss. The crystal blue eyes where fuming. Tony paid his bill, and got in his wheelchair. Ten minutes later they were in Gibbs' car.

The whole way to his apartment Tony didn't say a word. He had sobered up the moment he had heard Gibbs voice. Wondering how much he had heard from his monologue, he waited till his boss would say something. Anything.

* * *

Gibbs didn't know what to say or where to begin. He had searched for Tony because he wanted to apologize for the way he had acted today. Snapping at Tony like this was totally uncalled for and in he had the feeling he had damaged something that couldn't be repaired. The minute he had walked into the bar when Tony mentioned Ari. The apology in his mind was forgotten and a whole new set of thoughts ran through his head. When had everything gone so wrong? How was it possible that Tony even thought that it was better if he had died? First of all: no one should have died. And second . . . no there was no second. It never had been fair that Ari had taken that shot. And it wasn't fair either that Ziva was the one who had to kill Ari. But it had happened. And after all was said and done, they never really talked about it. Because there was no place, no time or no reason for. Had he been wrong? It wasn't a deliberate decision he had made. It wasn't as if he had thought: talking about what happened is a no-go. It just happened. After Kate died, life turned into a very fast roller coaster ride. The chase after Ari. The return of Jenny. Getting Ziva in the team.

Talking with McGee, Ducky, Abby and Tony about the events itself was more or less forgotten. They got new cases, moved on. But could you speak of moving on when one member thought that the team and the whole agency was better off without him? Did it have to do with the past? Or was it because Tony had ended up in a wheelchair? And their new case didn't help either. It brought back painful memories.

When he parked in front of Tony's apartment they sat silently in the dark. Light shone down the street from the apartment entrance. Behind them cars drove down the street, but other than that there was no sound.

'I would never think you are a waste of time or space, DiNozzo,' Gibbs said suddenly.

'I know,' Tony answered, his voice barely a whisper. He looked down in his lap, while the urge of walking away was building up. But his wheels were in the trunk, unreachable.

'Than why did you talk like that?'

'Because . . .' Tony searched for words. Finally, he turned his head towards his Boss. The only boss he had ever respected, who seemed to have all the answers. But lately he wasn't sure about that anymore. 'Did you ever feel like that you were . . . drowning in yourself? In the last year everything has fallen apart. Everything. Can you tell me what I should do when I stay like this? That desk job is killing me Boss. Really!'

Gibbs didn't answer immediately. He knew Tony wasn't a man to sit in an office all day. And it hurt more than he wanted to admit to see Tony like this.

'I wish I could say that I knew, Tony. I really did,' he said softly. Tony gave a short nod. Although it was the answer he feared most, it was the answer he knew was true.


	11. The End of an Era

_Disclaimer: you know what, screw it. No disclaimer. PUH!_

_A/N: Yeah, a new chapter! Finally! You may not like some decisions, but hey, I'm the writer of this story, so write your own :P_

_I've got a little problem that is costing me a whole lot of time: school. So updating is a bit tougher, but please be patient guys and girls, I will finish this - just not before the start of season 6. _

_So sit back, relax en enjoy this chapter :) (which again is made possible due to the hard work of my faithful beta-reader NcisRulz. Hear hear!)_

_PS: If you think you've got an opinion about this chapter or story, you know what to do right? Don't hesitate ;)_

* * *

**The end of an era**

Tony was up all night long. He didn't want to go to sleep. He wanted to plan his future. When he contemplated those words in his head, he snorted softly. Who would have thought that he would ever go to plan his future? His future was not something he had thought about. He loved his job, he loved his lifestyle, so why change things? It was good the way it was.

No. It _had_ been good the way it was. But now everything had changed. Keeping the job that he loved, but not being able to fulfill it just hurt too much. He knew Gibbs would do anything to keep him but every time they went out to go after the bad guys, his heart fell into thousand pieces. Every time he was in the office, he was reminded of what had happened. And every time he was reminded of his inability to walk, it was harder to cope with it. So after Gibbs had dropped him off, he had sat down on the couch. No movie or television. He just sat and thought about what he wanted to do with his life.

More than five hours later he had made up his mind. He had a plan. Gibbs would kill him, Ziva and McGee would probably feel betrayed, Abby would do anything to talk him out of it and Ducky most likely would give him a firm handshake and the advice to visit sometimes. But he had to do it. His decision was made, there was no way back. Tomorrow, he would hand over his resignation. It was time to move on.

* * *

'Tony, did you tell Gibbs about your decision?'

'Not yet,'

Jenny looked at Tony with a serious look in her eyes. He sat across from her in her office, looking more relaxed than he had in ages. Fifteen minutes ago he had handed her his resignation letter. She had a hard time believing that he really wanted to quit, but he had done everything by the book. If he really wanted to, she wasn't able to stop him. Too bad there was at least one person who wouldn't believe that.

'He won't accept it, you know that don't you?'

'I do, Director. But I have to do this. I'm sorry for the trouble this will cause,' he gave a genuine smile, before he rolled towards the desk a bit more. He offered her a hand, which she accepted. 'Thank you for everything. Jenny. It was nice working for and with you. You'll take care of them, won't you?'

'Thank you Tony. I hope we will see you again. NCIS will lose a good agent with your leaving. Good luck with whatever you are going to do,' she smiled, and Tony left her office. That was the easy part. Now, it was time to talk to the team.

* * *

Tony rolled into the bullpen. He went to Gibbs' desk, where Gibbs was reading something on his computer screen.

'You know you're late, DiNozzo?'

'I was talking with the Director earlier. I need to talk to you too,' Gibbs looked up. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like this talk.

'Well, talk,'

'Maybe it's better that I do this once? With Ducky and Abby here too?' Gibbs narrowed his eyes. Now he was sure he wasn't going to like this. Without taking his eyes off Tony, he reached to his phone and called Ducky.

'Can you come up here, Duck? And bring Abby with you. DiNozzo has something to say,'

Tony shifted uncomfortable in his seat. He still didn't know exactly how he was going to bring this up. He felt Ziva's eyes on his back and he knew without a doubt the look in McGee's eyes: confused. It took a few minutes before Ducky walked into the bullpen with Abby. She was bouncing a little – probably had more Caff-Pow's than was healthy today.

'Well, DiNozzo, are you going to make us wait all day?' Gibbs' voice was rougher than he intended. But the talk he had with Tony was in the back of his mind. The talk where he'd had to admit the even he didn't know what Tony could do. Again he had the feeling that he had driven Tony further away instead of keeping him close.

Tony looked around him. He was in the middle of the bullpen, next to Gibbs' desk. Ziva and McGee were seated at their own desks, looking at him worriedly. River sat at his own desk, trying not to pry, but he was very interested at what was going on.

'I have thought about this for a long time,' Tony started. He felt a lump growing in his throat. This was definitely harder than he expected. 'And I must say: the last six months were pretty rough on me. But you were there for me. You all were, every step of the way. But now it's certain that I will be in this chair forever, I . . .'

'No, that's not true,' Ziva interrupted him. 'We were there Tony, we've seen the tests. The results. You will walk again someday, sometime. It will just take a little longer than we thought,' she ended with a short nod, as if she wanted to make a statement.

Tony smiled a little. 'Yeah, I know. And I also thought about that a lot. It's just,' he hesitated. How could he make this clear? 'I've tried, guys. Over and over again. But every time that it goes wrong, it is harder. And I can't live with that. Seeing you walking out that door, knowing that I can't be there to have your backs . . .' another silence. 'It's time for me to move on. I think it's time for River to take over that desk,' he pointed at his empty desk. 'He is a good agent. You know that, all of you do. This is not the way any of us can work like we should work. We have a duty to all of the people out there. I can't perform that duty anymore. River can. He wants to. He deserves a chance in this team. That's why I turned in my resignation,' a gasp came from Abby's lips. Before anyone could say anything, Tony looked at Gibbs, who was glaring. 'The Director was not happy with it. But this is my decision. No-one else's. It's for the best. For everyone,'

'The hell it is,' Gibbs left the bullpen, and went up the stairs to speak with Jenny. Tony followed him with his eyes. He had tried, but he should have known that Gibbs wouldn't see things like he did. Finally he looked at his team. They were looking at him with eyes wide, trying to comprehend what he had just said. Finally Abby gave a small scream, and she propelled herself forwards, grasping Tony as if he would go away any minute.

'You can't go! Tony! It won't be the same without you!' Tony tried to remove her arms from his arms, but it was helpless: she wouldn't let go. So he gave her a hug instead.

'I know Abs, I know. But it isn't the same _with_ me,' he whispered into her hair. He looked up, a cocky grin at his face.

'Guys, come on. It's not like I'm going to be Agent Afloat or something, we still can hang out together!'

Ducky and McGee walked over at almost the same moment.

'Are you sure, Anthony?' Ducky asked. Tony smiled. He knew Ducky would ask him that.

'Positive, Duck. It won't be easy, but working here is will be harder,' he ignored the tiny doubting voice in the back of his mind.

'In that case, I wish you the most of luck. Any idea what you'll be doing next?'

'Not a clue, but something will come up eventually,' Ducky nodded and gave Tony a firm handshake. Abby still hadn't let go of Tony.

'We need you Tony! Don't go!' she kept saying it, as if it was a mantra. McGee looked at her nervously.

'What's up Probie?'

'Abby is right, it will be different without you,' McGee almost blushed when he said it.

'You'll get over it, besides, you will always be my Probie,' Tony grinned a bit. Then he turned serious again. 'You're a good agent, Tim. Really. Don't forget that, okay?' Now McGee really was blushing. Tony never called him Tim. Or said anything about his abilities as field agent.

'Well. Yeah. Okay. Shall I take Abby with me?' he nodded at the forensic scientist. Tony nodded. He gave Abby another hug, and she finally let him go.

'Just . . . don't dare not to stay in touch, okay?' she hiccupped.

'Won't do Abs. After all, you are one of the best friends I've ever had,' Abby gave him one last gigantic hug, before she left the bullpen with McGee behind her. Tony looked down for a moment. He felt the emotions flying high. He hated saying goodbye. Ziva stood up and walked towards him. Tony looked up, and saw anger in her eyes and some other emotions he couldn't place immediately.

'I'll not say goodbye to you Tony. I will only say what I think right now,' Tony cocked his head to the side. Her voice was steady but there was an edge in it. A dangerous edge.

'I think you are a coward. I think you are lying to yourself. I think you are a traitor. Do you really think things will be easier for us when you are gone? Maybe it's easier for _you_ so that _you_ don't have to deal with your condition, but is sure isn't easier for _us_. You are pathetic!' with those final words she turned around and left the bullpen, following Abby and McGee. Tony was left behind, his mouth open, trying to say something. Anger boiled up, he clenched his fists and jaws together. If she thought he was _pathetic_ well, fine. That wasn't his problem. Not anymore. He looked around in the empty bullpen, and saw John River still at his desk, trying hard not to look as if he was eavesdropping.

'River!'

'Yeah?'

'You can take my desk. Just have to get my things,' John nodded silent, he didn't know what to say. Tony went over to his desk, and started to gather his things. He finally understood why Kate always had said that he really should clean up more: he found things he thought he had lost years ago!

* * *

Ziva stormed into the lab. She was really mad. If it was possible steam would be coming out of her ears, so extremely pissed off she was right at that moment.

'What is he thinking!' she practically yelled. Abby and McGee sat together; McGee was hugging Abby who was still sad. At the emotional outburst of Ziva, Abby let go of McGee and they looked at Ziva with teary eyes.

'What are you looking at? I'm _not_ the one who is leaving!'

'We know it's just . . . you never . . . I mean . . .'

'Oh stop babbling Tim! You are never emotional like that, Ziva. Not even when Gibbs was almost . . . with the explosion, you know?' Ziva looked away almost ashamed. It was true; this was the first time she let herself go like this.

'I did - _do_ care for Gibbs, Abby. But Tony . . . he just gave up. He gives up, quits and thinks that's that. Do you remember the hospital? How he reacted at the test that the doctor did? He _can_ walk! I know he can! We all know it! But that stupid stubborn moron apparently doesn't want to! Gibbs would never give up! He would never leave us like that . . .' her voice trailed away when memories flooded back: Gibbs standing in front of them wearing his hospital outfit. _Semper Fi_. Walking away. A broken man, feeling betrayed by his own country.

'Gibbs walked away,'

'Yeah, but he came back, didn't he?' Abby didn't really follow what Ziva was saying – but she hadn't really heard Ziva's words. In her mind there was only room for Tony's goodbye.

'Yeah, but he _walked away_!' What had she done? Yelled at Tony about how she thought he was a coward, while he was probably feeling likeGibbs had felt: betrayal. Not by his country, but by his own body. And she had kicked him down even further when he was only trying to get his life together.

'Ziva, what are you talking ab...out,' Abby started, but Ziva had left the lab already hoping that Tony hadn't left yet.

* * *

Gibbs had stormed into Jenny's office, not even bothering to knock.

'Why did you let this happen Jenny?! Don't you see that he is just running away? DiNozzo never wants to face his problems, you should know that by now! You can't accept his resignation!'

'Special Agent Gibbs. I know perfectly that Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo doesn't want to talk about his problems. But he did everything by the book, he followed the rules and I can do nothing more than accept it. If you really are that concerned about him you should not be here right now, you should be down stairs with him and trying to talk him out of it!!'

Gibbs clenched his fists together. He knew she was right, and he knew that Tony was possibly already gone. With one last angry look he walked out of the office, leaving Jenny once again alone.

* * *

Tony placed his stuff on the passenger's seat in his car, and gavea small sigh. This goodbye definitely had not gone like he had planned. He had foreseen that Gibbs would be furious, that Abby wouldn't want him to go and McGee's reaction wasn't really surprising either. But Ziva's reaction was the one that had shocked him the most. She was always cool and reserved, but when he needed that reaction the most she'd done the complete opposite. Pathetic. Traitor. Coward. It echoed in his head, even if he really tried to think of something else. Something good.

'DiNozzo,' Tony looked up surprised. Gibbs leaned against the car, two steaming foam cups in his hands. 'Coffee?'

'Thanks, Boss,' Tony smiled. He accepted the hot coffee carefully. 'But I thought you were . . . kinda pissed off?'

'I'm not happy with your decision Tony. I meant it when I said that you are not a waste of time or space. You are important for m . . . this team. And your investigative skills will always be useful, no matter how you move around,'

'Thanks boss. And somewhere I know that I am useful for NCIS, but I am a field agent. I _want_ to be a field agent. And this may be the easy way out, however . . . it's one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. It feels as if this is the end of an era, you know what I mean?'

'It is the end of an era, Tony. I have to admit, I never thought you would last this long with NCIS, at least not in my team,' Gibbs smirked. Before Tony could answer this very rare compliment, Gibbs held his hand up.

'I want you to keep this. For now. Until you are really sure you don't want it anymore,' Tony looked at the shining NCIS badge. _His _badge. He had left it at his old desk, before he left.

'Isn't that against regulations?'

'I always like to think that those are more like guidelines, not rules,' a corner of his mouth crept up. 'Oh, and before you think that I would even _let_ you disappear from the face of the earth because you've quit, don't count on it. I will check on you, got that?'

'Understood, Boss,'

'Good. One more thing, I never should have snapped at you the other day. You aren't a babysitter. They are good agents who know how to take care of themselves. I was just . . .'

'. . . worried?'

'Weren't you?'

Before Tony could answer that, Gibbs' cell went off.

'Gibbs . . . okay, on my way. He's dangerous, so hold your distance. Thanks,' he rubbed his face with his hand.

'Hit on the BOLO?'

'Yeah, some cops spotted him. Take care DiNozzo,'

'You too Boss,' One handshake, and Gibbs went inside again, almost crashing into Ziva. Tony heard the bitter words in his head again. Traitor. Coward. Pathetic. Without looking back he started the engine and drove off.

* * *

'Ziva, we've got a hit on the BOLO, get McGee and River, I'll get the car,'

'But . . .' Ziva looked at Tony's car which was just leaving the gate. 'Great. I'll get them,' she sighed, and went back inside again.

* * *

'We think he's drunk, sir,'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because he's singing something,'

Gibbs stood next to the agent who had called in the BOLO. They were standing in front of an old large warehouse somewhere by the docks. There lay a lot of scrap metal, old tires, timber and more junk around the place. The place itself looked as if it would fall apart any minute: the roof was collapsed partially, some parts of the walls were gone and nature had taken over, mostly with weeds and grass growing everywhere in and outside it. It was a mess. Three other agents were standing right beside them, as well as McGee, Ziva and River. They all tried to get a look at Field, who they could hear but not see.

'What's he singing?'

'Some kind of Christmas carol,'

Gibbs' right eyebrow went up a few inches.

'Excuse me?'

'Yeah, that's what we thought. He keeps on singing a part of Santa Claus is coming to town. The first part you know?'

As if they had practiced it, the agents started singing together.

_Oh! You better watch out,  
You better not cry,  
You better not pout,  
I'm telling you why:_

_Santa Clause is coming to town!_

McGee and Ziva looked at each other with disbelief in their eyes. River grinned a bit, but didn't dare to laugh out loud: Gibbs was not looking happy.

'You think that's funny, agents?'

The singing subdued a bit, two of the four agents had the decency to look ashamed.

'Because I don't see anything funny here. That man is suspected of killing people who are connected with the Marine Corps. Do you know how he did that?'

Now all the agents were intently looking at their shoes.

'He shot them. With a sniper rifle. Planted a bullet in their heads. Still think that's funny? No, I thought so. Now, if you don't mind, we've got a job to do,'

He turned to his team.

'Ziva, McGee, be very careful, take the left side. River and I will take the right side. Don't hesitate to shoot him if you think he will shoot you, got it?' Three nods, and they took off.

Slowly Ziva and McGee made their way towards the warehouse. The singing became clearer, and they heard that the agents were right – almost right.

'Ziva!' McGee hissed. Ziva stopped in her tracks and looked behind her. They were standing behind a large couple of bushes.

'He's not singing about Santa Claus,'

'McGee! Why do you care about what he's singing!' Ziva was irritated. She wanted to get this bastard, get him behind bars and go after Tony. It was nagging her that she had been so harsh to him, and that wasn't helping her focusing.

'Because he's singing about Gibbs! Don't you hear it? He has changed the last line!'

Ziva tried to block every thought from her mind, and listened to the words that Field was singing, loud and obnoxious, his voice not entirely steady.

_Oh! You better watch out,  
You better not cry,  
You better not pout,  
I'm telling you why:_

_Jethro Gibbs is coming to town!_

* * *

'We've got to warn him,' hissed McGee. 'This must be a trap, what if he doesn't hear it in time? What if his ears aren't as good anymore? His eyesight isn't getting better so . . .'

'Thanks McGee, but I heard it alright,'

'Boss!'

Gibbs sat right behind them, seconds later River emerged too. The space against the busted wall and behind a large couple of bushes became cramped, but no one said anything about it.

'Did you saw him?' Gibbs whispered.

'Nothing, we're guessing he is in the building, second floor. Impossible to get close without being seen,' Ziva said quickly.

'Can't we just call him out?' McGee suggested. Gibbs looked at him thoughtfully.

'Could give it a try. Ziva, take River to the back, he'll probably take flight. McGee and me will take cover and call him out,'

'On it,' Ziva and River took off, trying to avoid tripping over the trash, weeds and bushes. McGee followed Gibbs into the building. They took cover behind a half-demolished wall. McGee looked carefully around it. As they had thought, there was a second floor, barely holding itself up, where they saw the shadow of someone behind a dirty glass window. The singing was clearer in the building, they even heard the occasional drunken hiccup and the clatter of furniture. He crawled back down, and gave Gibbs a nod.

'Dimitri Field, this is NCIS, come out with your hands in the air!' Gibbs bellowed out. It was silent for a few moments, and suddenly a shrill laughter came down as response.

'What are you going to do Gibbsy? Shoot me? While you can't see me? I've read you were a great sniper, but for being a sniper you need a sniper rifle. Which I have and you don't,'

A loud shot rang through the building. A few meters to the left a low wall collapsed further due to impact. McGee tried to melt into the wall, Gibbs peeked around their own wall.

'You see? I can blow your brains out with this sugar. Love the name, don't you? It's called a Kate, but I bet you knew that already,' Gibbs ignored the menacing and harassing voice while he tried to gain a clear shot. There was big hole in one of the windows where Field was behind. He ducked back behind the wall and nudged McGee softly. He pointed out the hole and that he was going to the left to get better sight. McGee nodded. He needed to provide backup if Field was going to shoot. With a sniper rifle at close range it was hard to miss, so he prayed that Field was indeed as drunk as he sounded or that he just wouldn't shoot.

Without making a sound Gibbs crawled towards the left. He duck behind a small pile of bricks and cement. His movements were slow but steady when he looked behind it and tried to get a clear shot. The shadow behind the dirt windows faded a bit, came closer, moved to the right and suddenly to the left. There he stood, apparently waiting. Gibbs heard vaguely that he was shouting something but he didn't hear what. He focused himself on the one thing he had in mind: getting that bastard. He shut out everything around him and fired. It was as if everything went in slow motion: the bullet leaving his gun, the backfire he anticipated, breaking of glass and then . . . nothing. Gibbs looked at McGee, who looked at him questioning. Did he shoot him? A sudden harsh cry startled them. A lot of noise followed and McGee thought for a minute that the whole building would collapsed. They heard someone running and before they could move the voice of Ziva came from outside. Seconds later they were running together to the back of the building.


	12. It Ends Tonight

_Disclaimer: same as every chapter before this one._

_A/N: the story continues! More hurt and sorrow (sorry. there is something about Tony that makes it lovely to make him hurt I guess) but also: there is light at the end of the tunnel! Yes there is! Don't give up on reading and reviewing people, just wait and see )_

_Beta'd by NcisRulz, but still: any mistakes are mine. No one is perfect :P_

_I LOVE season 6 so far. And I've finaly pulled it off: my boyfriend is addicted now too grins evil  
_

* * *

**It ends tonight**

Tony laid his head back against the couch, closed his eyes and let himself being engulfed by the music that boomed out of his surround sound set. He had cranked up the volume, despite his neighbors, but sometimes you just needed something like AC/DC: pure and very loud hard rock. It was music he had used in the gym some times, slamming all the stress into a punching bag to the beat of Thunderstruck. But with the absence of a punching bag he had done a work out with the exercises they had recommended in the hospital. He didn't really see the sense of them, but it felt good to do them. And now he had set the song on repeat and just sat back and relaxed, feeling the stress disappearing from his body. More importantly: the music was so loud there was no room to think. He didn't hear the knocks on his door, or the picking of the lock that followed a few minutes later. He didn't notice the movements of the person who sneaked into the room.

Ziva had knocked on the door until her hands hurt, and had enough of it. The lock was picked in less than a minute, and she let herself in. Not sure what to expect she moved quietly. She felt as if the music was too loud to be a good sign. But when her eyes felt upon Tony, she froze on the spot. He sat on his couch, his eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful and young that she thought for a moment that he was dead. The same moment she noticed his chest moving up and down and a sigh of relief escaped her. With two steps she stood by the stereo and turned it off.

Tony sat up straight immediately, his hand to his non-existent sidearm, before he saw it was Ziva.

'Ziva! That you hate me, fine, but to scare the living daylights out of me is a bit of overkill don't you think?' he growled.

'I didn't mean to scare you. And the daylight is gone already,' Ziva gestured with her hand vaguely to the outside world. Tony wanted to explain the expression when he noticed Ziva's appearance. Her hair was frizzy, she wore a NCIS jogging suit and there was a small bruise on her face.

'What the hell happened to you?'

'We found Field, he escaped with a boat. I dove after him but was too late,'

'You dove . . . after a serial killer . . . in a boat…' Tony summed up; shocked about the risk she had taken.

'Well, technically, I missed the boat. But that was the plan,'

'I'm glad that your plan failed!'

'Really? Because after what I've said today I thought you would hate me. No, don't say anything Tony. I'm sorry. I am really sorry. You of all people are not a coward or a traitor. You aren't pathetic. I should never have said that,' she had talked quickly because she wanted it to get over with. Tony looked at her intently.

'Can you say something?'

'What changed your mind?'

'Gibbs. He walked away, betrayed by his superiors. You walked away, feeling betrayed by your body,' Tony thought about that for a second. Then he leaned back again against his couch.

'There are a few beers in the fridge. And while you're at it, can you turn the music back on?'

* * *

'Don't you have something else other than this . . . noise?' Ziva asked after a few minutes. Tony didn't open his eyes but reached blindly for the remote of his stereo. Lazily he pressed the stop button.

'The cd's are on the left shelf of the cabinet under the television,' he gestured. Ziva didn't move, but just looked at him. He opened one eye when nothing happened.

'What?'

'I am so not going to crawl to your stereo to change the music. It's your music, your apartment, you do it,' She felt as lazy as he did, trying to move as little as possible.

'You wanted different music,' Tony replied.

'You want different music too! You lowered the volume, so that means you're getting tired of this,'

'But . . . that's . . . I can't walk! You do it!'

'So now you're going to use your impairment as an excuse? I'm not buying it. So, didn't you have Sinatra or something? I like his voice,' she smiled innocent at Tony.

'Do you like to see me in that chair?' he asked bitterly.

'Nope. But you can still use your arms, so I'm not going to do that for you,' she looked very content with herself, and closed her eyes. Tony looked at her with an expression on his face that lingered between surprised and pleased. She was more lying than sitting on his couch, right beside him. The thought of pushing her off the couch came to mind, but he ignored it and instead he got into his chair and made his way to the stereo. Seconds later the powerful but yet tender voice of Frank Sinatra filled the room.

'If you dove into the water, how did you get that bruise?' Tony suddenly asked.

'That was nothing really. Field escaped from the warehouse he was hiding after Gibbs tried to shoot him. He knocked me down when he left the building. I was standing in his way,'

'Where was McGee?'

'With Gibbs inside the building,'

'And River?'

'Behind the door that Field slammed open. He's in worse shape than I am, really. He was out cool for a few minutes,'

'Out cold,' Tony corrected automatically and he took a swig from his beer. 'Too bad he escaped,'

'Gibbs will get him. Field really pissed him off,'

* * *

A few days passed without breathtaking or heart racing events. Field didn't show up again, nor did he make any more victims. Tony tried to find a job, but he didn't feel very happy about it. After posting three letters of application he went to the park. It was a sunny day, a bit cold and windy, but nevertheless sunny. He had enough of being inside all the time, and crossed the park until he found a spot in the sun but out of the wind. Behind him there was a neatly trimmed large green bush. From the left to the right lay a broad sidewalk, and in front of him was nice green lawn. Next to the green lawn lay a big pond where several older people were fishing. It was quiet, after all it was Tuesday, and people were mostly working.

His mind wandered back to the Friday, when Ziva had come by. He had enjoyed her company, and was pleasantly surprised when she refused to do things for him if he could do them himself. They hadn't talked a lot about it, but he appreciated it in a strange way. It gave him the feeling that he wasn't useless. Gibbs had said it to him, but Ziva proved it again. But when she went home again he felt immediately alone. Sombre thoughts ran through his head, and he knew that he wasn't supposed to think like he did. But it was as if dark clouds were hovering in his head, making him feel down and depressed.

Gibbs had come by too, Saturday evening, but that was more awkward than when Ziva had kept him company. Tony had wanted to talk about how he felt about the way things were, but he couldn't find the words. Gibbs hadn't stayed long, he probably felt uncomfortable too. Maybe it just wasn't the time yet. And again, after Gibbs had left, his dark mood came back. His thoughts weren't positive at all but when he tried to think of other things, it didn't work. So he watched a movie to distract himself. And another one and another one. Until he fell asleep in the middle of The Italian Job. He woke up, sweating heavily, after dreaming that he killed himself. It wasn't the first time he had had such a dream. Probably wouldn't be the last.

He remembered the Monday, when he fulfilled his promise to Abby: he had dropped by and with Abby, McGee and Ziva they had lunched in a little coffee shop near NCIS headquarters. It had been fun and they had laughed a lot. But deep down inside, even being reunited like this didn't change his dark mood. He laughed and joked with them but it was more because he wanted to have fun than that he did had fun. Every minute of their lunch he missed his job more. And when they left to go back to their jobs, he felt his heart shattering in thousand pieces. He didn't want to feel that pain again. But what could he do against it? Hell, he couldn't do much at all!

When that thought came to mind he knew he shouldn't be thinking of it. But he couldn't help it. The facade of his happy mood broke down completely when he thought about all the things he couldn't do. Memories from the last year flooded back fast and harsh. The pain in his back before he lost consciousness, the recovering in the hospital, the decision to give up trying. A bitter taste welled up in his mouth and Tony blinked a few times to suppress the tears that were trying to escape his eyes. Would it always be this hard? Would he ever really adjust to the way things were now? How the hell was this going to be worth it? Was this worth living? Could you call this living when you had ended up in a wheelchair, not being able to just get up and walk? Do things that were so normal that when you could them you didn't thought about it? It wasn't that he wanted his job back per se, well it would be great of course, but it wasn't the worst. He was getting sick and tired of people who didn't see him when he was shopping for groceries. Or worse: they did see him but acted like he was some retarded who didn't understand English. He had enough of _sitting_ all day. He knew he had been a bit lazy sometimes, but he thought that if he could walk again he wouldn't sit for days. Just because he was _able_ to use his legs. But this was how it was going to be. Sitting. All day long. In this wheelchair. This was how it was going to be. People who didn't look further than his wheels. He, himself not being able to perform the easiestof tasks. When he needed to get to a top floor of a building, he probably needed the help from someone else to reach for the button. He didn't want to depend on others. And if this was the way hislife was going to end . . .Tony always had had the feeling that he would die in the field. A huge shoot out. Or him catching the bullet for someone else. But if his life ended like this, he knew one thing for sure: he was not going to live it.

His right hand moved to his waist without thinking. He was so used to the feeling of a sidearm there, that he sometimes thought it had grown on him. He had left it at NCIS headquarters though. Gibbs would probably have it by now. But if he had it with him, he could end things. Right here, right now. One shot. It would end everything. No more feeling depressed or down. He wouldn't be a burden no more. To no-one. Not to Gibbs, who needed to be focused in the field. Not to Ziva, who needed to get out more. Keeping an invalid company or working wasn't really the life she deserved. She didn't get out much even before he was shot, but he knew pretty sure it was even less now. Not that he had had a date in . . . Ho, don't even go there DiNozzo, it's bad enough already. He thought about the spare gun in his sock drawer. He knew for a fact that in the same drawer lay a clip of bullets.

He knew he was going on a dangerous path. But getting his spare and the bullets didn't mean immediately that he was going to pull the trigger. Maybe he would end up on the shooting range for a quick session. Or maybe he would set the gun to his head and pull the trigger one last time. That thought somehow brought a strangely reassuring feeling with it.

* * *

Gibbs had a gut feeling. He couldn't place where it came from. Field hadn't been seen again. His agents weren't out in the field, they all sat safely behind their desks, doing paperwork. All but one of course . . . it still was strange to see River behind Tony's desk. Tony had always made a mess of it, but River was a neat person. Gibbs remembered the million times he had said something about Tony's sloppiness, but now he missed it. Well, not really the sloppiness. It just came with the whole package, and that was gone. Their last talk had been strange and uncomfortable. Gibbs had wanted to say so much, but he just wasn't the guy to talk about emotions. So he had left. And now he had the idea that there was something going to happen. He reached for the phone to give him a call, but it started to ring. Another case. He would call DiNozzo this evening, he promised himself.

* * *

Fifteen minutes after Tony had left the park, he entered his apartment. He didn't waste time and within five minutes he had found the gun and the clip with bullets and placed them at his waist. Without looking back he left his apartment again.

He went back to the park where he had sat before. It was a nice place, quiet and peaceful. The thought of going to the shooting range hadn't crossed his mind once, after getting his gun. In the warmth of the sun he sat. It was as if remembering the past had broken a dam in his head. Past and present were colliding, with a hint of the future mixed within. It was scaring him. He looked down at the gun, took it in his hands. It felt comfortable. The thought of being able to do this made him feel at ease.

* * *

Gibbs became grumpier with each minute. They were taking care of the crime scene where a lieutenant was killed. But instead of concentrating on the case, his mind wandered again and again to Tony. He just knew something was off.

His cell phone rang suddenly, DiNozzo.

'Gibbs,'

'Boss, it's me,'

'What's up DiNozzo?'

'Nothing really, just wanted to say that I appreciate everything you've done for me lately. And before that. You were always there for me,'

Gibbs scrunched his brow. This was rather unusual.

'Not a problem Tony. I'm glad I could help,'

'Could you give my greetings to Ziva and Probie?'

'Yeah sure but . . .'

'And don't go to harsh on them, okay?'

Gibbs tried to say something but Tony hung up on him. This really was very strange. It sounded as if Tony had said goodbye. His mind started working at lighting-speed and he made a decision.

'Ziva, call Jenny and tell her to send in another team. We've got more important things to do,' he barked. Ziva looked up and just nodded, grabbing her phone.

'What's wrong Gibbs? Is Field spotted again?' River asked anxiously.

'No, that was Tony. McGee! Trace Tony's cell. Now!'

'Boss . . . we don't have a connection here to the internet . . .'

'Call Abby!'

McGee called and told Abby what she needed to do.

'What's wrong with Tony Tim?'

'I have no idea, just do it as fast as possible okay?'

'Hang on, I'm getting there . . .'

A minute later she had it. Without saying thanks McGee hung up his phone.

'Boss! Found it! He's somewhere in the park near his apartment,'

'Is the new team underway?'

'Yeah, but the Director asked why you dropped the case,' Ziva answered quickly.

'I'll explain later. Get in the car. I'm afraid we haven't much time,'

A minute later they drove away from the crime scene, Gibbs behind the wheel, Ziva driving shotgun and McGee in the back trying frantically to keep his laptop in one piece. Gibbs had ordered River to stay behind so that he could update the new team about the case.

'Gibbs, what's wrong with Tony?' Ziva asked, sitting pretty relaxed in the passenger's seat despite Gibbs' outrageous driving; then again, she drove like that all the time.

'He just called me, saying goodbye,'

'Goodbye? But where is he going,' Gibbs glanced at her, but didn't answer Ziva's question. He couldn't say it out loud. If he said it out loud it sounded much worse than in his head.

* * *

Tony didn't look around when he took the gun up. He pulled the safety off and a bark sounded in front of him. Tony looked up, and saw a black dog sitting a few feet away from him, wagging her tail.

'What?'

Another bark was the answer.

'What are you looking at?'

The dog got up, walked over and placed her paws on Tony's lap. With her nose she nudged his hand, and a soft growling escaped between her jaws. Tony froze. If that dog was going to bite him . . . slowly he pulled his hand away. The dog looked at him, head tilted a bit, and barked again, softly. It was as if it gave him a warning.

'I can shoot you and me, you know that right?' Tony asked.

'Woof!' The dog jumped on the ground, and just looked at Tony. Tony didn't know what to think. He had never had a thing for dogs. They didn't really seem to like him that much. The feeling was mutual. But this dog looked and sounded as if she understood him when he talked to her.

'You really think I like what I'm doing?' He asked. God this was stupid. Spilling his guts to a dog! He didn't get an answer from the dog, just a look.

'Yeah, well, you can talk easily. Four paws, no wheels. I'm handicapped. For life. I hate my life, I hate myself, I can't do the things I love most,' a soft howl came asa response. 'No, I'm not talking about sex! Well I miss it, can't argue there. But all those girls, they never meant anything. Ever. But after feeling alone and hated for most of your youth, believe me, it's nice to have someone around who likes you. Even if it's just for a few hours!'

The dog lay down, giving a soft growl as answer as if she wanted him to continue.

'But I'm talking about chasing the bad guys, going over cases, following leads, discussing the evidence and leads, working together long nights to solve a case, messing around with Probie, trying to get Ziva pissed . . . We were more a family than a team sometimes. I miss that the most. And it will never come back. So if you just could leave me alone, I can finish this. Please . . .' Tony's voice broke down, and he got a better grip around the gun. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

* * *

The blue sedan stopped with shrieking tires before the park entrance. Gibbs got out and started running, followed closely by McGee and Ziva. They stopped at an intersection, trying to figure out which way to go, when a shot rang through the park. Like a bloodhound Gibbs went left and sprinted further. They chased passed a pond, passing several people who looked bewildered, not knowing what had happened. Gibbs almost ran past it, when Ziva yelled at him.

'Gibbs! There!' In a small recess they saw a wheelchair lying on his side, two legs sprawled underneath it and a dog standing nearby it. Seconds later they kneeled beside Tony.

'Tony, are you alright?' Gibbs asked, an unfamiliar tenderness in his voice. There was no blood spilling, which was a big relief.

'I'm fine,' grunted Tony. 'Blame that stupid dog.' The dog looked at them, growling. The gun lay between her paws.

'What the hell happened DiNozzo!' Gibbs asked. Tony didn't answer; he sat up and pushed his wheelchair away.

'Tony . . .' Still no answer. Tony finally set his chair back up, and tried to get in. But it seemed as if all his strength had left his body. His arm started shaking. Without a word, Gibbs pulled him up and settled Tony back in his chair. Two strong arms were put around him. He recognized the smell of wood and coffee. Finally, he gave in. After months putting up a mask, he let it go. He sighed, and leant into the gentle embrace. Tears started to flow down his cheeks, he didn't stop them. It was enough. It had been too much for too long.

Gibbs felt how his shirt became wet from tears. He rocked Tony as if he was a little child. In some ways, he was a little kid, craving comfort. And he finally allowed himself to receive it.

'It's going to be okay, kid, really,' he whispered.

'I can't do it Boss. I don't want to live like this,'

'You don't have to, Tony. But did you really want to end things like this?'

'I don't know any other way,'

'Then we will help you find it. Because I'm done with it. You stop here and now with doing crazy things you don't want to do. It ends tonight Tony. You will talk, and I will listen. I don't care how long I have to push and prod you, you _will_ talk. If I have to lock you up in my basement, fine. If you want to yell or scream or get drunk, fine. If you want to talk to Ziva or McGee or Abby or Jenny, fine. But I'll be there. And you will talk. Because I'm guessing that if it wasn't for that dog, we probably would have been too late. We care too much for you to let you get off that easily. Do you understand that?'

Tony nodded, his face still buried in Gibbs' shirt. McGee and Ziva just stood there, not knowing what to do. Finally Ziva walked to the dog, who still was standing over the gun. Without growling or barking, the dog stepped aside and let Ziva take the gun. Carefully she tucked it away.

* * *

They drove to Gibbs' home after leaving the park. It seemed the most obvious thing to do. After a short phone call Abby and Ducky had joined them. And finally, Tony talked. And talked. Until his throat felt sore and he had the feeling he had repeated everything ten times. They sat together in the living room, first with coffee and later something stronger. Tony talked about everything he had felt the last months. The pain in his body, the pain in his soul. The reasons he gave up and the reasons he wanted to end his life. Feeling useless, alone and betrayed made him quit. Quitting made him feeling depressed, and that depressed feeling made him wanting to end things. He cried more than he had ever done in his life, but nobody laughed about that. When things were too tough to talk further he found support in the one who wa

* * *

s sitting next to him at that point. With a big hug or a simple touch. It gave him the strength to continue.

But Tony wasn't the only one who talked. They all talked, and for the first time Tony realized how hard it had been for his team members that he was injured. He never had thought that he was important in the team. But they genuinely missed him, and all wanted him back. His heart was filled with happiness and joy and at the same time pain and sorrow when he heard them speaking like that. He wasn't alone or a burden. He was needed. They appreciated him and they loved him all in their own way. And besides that they had felt guilt about not being able to save him, not being able to help him out. They felt lost without him, even though he wasn't their team leader.

'Tony, who was that dog actually?' Abby suddenly asked.

'Don't know Abs. It just showed up. When I wanted to . . . you know, shoot, it jumped at my arm. I lost balance and fell over. When I hit the ground I had pulled the trigger but missed by miles – obviously,'

'We should find that dog. He saved your life,' Abby nodded.

'She,' corrected Tony.

'How do you know that?'

'Have no idea, just a feeling that it was a female dog,'

They sat a few minutes in silence. Tony on the couch with Abby and Gibbs, Ziva curled up in a chair and McGee and Ducky shared the smaller couch.

'Do you think that maybe. . . I don't know, could it be Kate?' Abby asked quietly. 'She would never have agreed with you committing suicide. Maybe she decided to stop you?'

'I'm not really a believer in reincarnation Abs,' Tony said softly. 'But I have to admit that for a dog she didn't act very doglike,'

* * *

After hours Tony wanted to go home, but Gibbs simply refused to drive him. He didn't want to let Tony out of his sight so soon after a suicide attempt.

'Gibbs, how do you want me to get up the stairs?'

'I'll take down a mattress or something. You are staying here. A depression you went through is not fixed this easily, got that?'

'But Boss!'

'You are staying here tonight. And that's final!'

Tony rolled his eyes, he felt positive about being able to go home. But wheeling all the way down there wasn't an attractive prospect, so he stayed. Gibbs walked up and down the stairs a few times, and made up a bed in his living room. It was an old stretcher with a mattress that looked like it wasn't used in years. After the doubtful look in Tony's eyes, Gibbs gave him a half smile.

'Kelly used to sleep on this when she was on a school trip or something,' he turned around and walked to his basement.

* * *

It was after four in the morning when Gibbs woke up. He didn't know at first what had woke him up, until he heard some moaning. Tony. He crawled away underneath his boat and went up to the living room.

Tony was moaning and talking in his sleep. He clearly was dreaming something and he was completely wrapped up in his blankets.

'Can't do this . . .' Tony mumbled, tossing his head from one side to the other. 'Too hard . . . pain. . .' Gibbs sat next to him, and tried to wake him up.

'Tony, it's all right. Everything will be fine, Tony, I promise,'

'Gun . . . failure . . . dad was right . . .'

'Tony! Wake up!' Gibbs shook his shoulders, and suddenly Tony sat up straight.

'What . . . where am I?'

'At my place. What were you dreaming about?'

'That I tried to kill myself again, and my dad was standing in front of me, and he just laughed when I missed. I tried again, placed the gun at my head, but somehow I missed . . . couldn't even do that right,' he said with a wry smile.

'Your dad, DiNozzo . . . I have the feeling that he isn't really cut out to be a dad. Or maybe he just wasn't good at being your dad. But you can't let him get to you like this. Have you had contact with him lately?'

'Haven't seen him in years,'

'Than why should he be your judge? You are not a failure Tony. Look at the things you've accomplished, and then judge for yourself. And even if you think you've failed at your life, you are the one who can fix that. Because you can do anything you set your mind to. Got that?'

'Thanks Boss,'

'Anytime. Coffee?' Tony laughed. Maybe it wasn't a bad choice to stay at Gibbs' place after all.

* * *

Gibbs looked at the building in front of him. It had taken a few phone calls, but he wasn't a team leader at NCIS for nothing so tracing this lady wasn't a big problem. With the standard foam cup of coffee he entered. A woman with red hair, looking like she was in her thirties, sat behind a desk which was covered with papers and maps.

'Can I help you sir?' she asked Gibbs without looking up. A smile crept over Gibbs' face.

'I hope you can, miss . . .'

'Roberts,'

'Well**, **Miss Roberts, I'm looking for a dog. And if I'm correct, she was brought in here last night?' He smiled at her patiently. Finally miss Roberts looked up. Her eyes travelled from his silver hair to his blue eyes and soft smile. Suddenly she looked a lot happier.

'You can call me Denise, and there were brought in five dogs yesterday. Do you know a name or something?'

'I'm afraid not Denise. I only know that it was probably a female dog, completely black with a little bit grey around the jaws,'

'Very well, if you could walk with me? They are all in the back,'

They walked through a door behind the desk, through a hallway. At the end they went left, and entered a large hall with, on both sides, large kennels. Each kennel contained one or two dogs, depending on the size. Gibbs let his eyes wander over the kennels. Suddenly he saw her: at the last kennel, looking straight at him with her tail wagging.

'That's her,' he pointed out.

'Alright then. She picked up a folder at the door of the kennel.

'She's called Laika. Apparently she's been here before, but got away last week. Every dog that comes in here, or any other shelter for that matter, is chipped, so we can keep track of them. This one was sent to a shelter after her last owner died. A gunnery sergeant, named Joseph Bell. After his second round in Afghanistan he got depressed and committed suicide. Too bad. Laika stayed with him until they found him, that was five days later,'

'A gunnery sergeant that killed himself?'

'I'm afraid so, poor thing,'

'She seems to betrained very well. Why hasn't anyone picked her up?'

'I'm afraid that people think she's too old. Laika is ten years, people like a younger dog better. They think they can't train Laika like they want to,'

Gibbs looked down at the dog who was standing now.

'Sit,' he said. Laika sat down. 'Down,' Laika lay down flat on the floor, her eyes not leaving his. That wasn't bad at all. Gibbs wondered what he could try next. This dog belonged to a marine once. So what should a marine teach a dog? He made a rolling movement with his finger. Laika rolled over. Gibbs went on his knees, and gestured Laika to come closer. She did. He pointed to the left. Laika walked to the left side of the kennel. Gibbs knew enough. He got up again, and smiled at Denise.

'If it's okay with you, I would like to take Laika with me,'

'You'll have to fill out this form, and there may be a check up soon. We like to know for sure that our dogs get a good home. Other than that, you're good to go,'

* * *

Tony was bored. He had watched television, but there was nothing on. And Gibbs didn't own any movies, so watching that wasn't an option. Now he was making wheelies in his wheelchair, a trick he had mastered pretty well.

'If you fall flat, it's not my fault,' Tony wheeled around and saw Gibbs standing behind him.

'Couldn't help myself. Where did you go?'

'Out. Had to get something for you. Someone actually,'

'Not my dad . . .' Gibbs whistled on his fingers and moments later a big black hairy something jumped up at Tony.

'Easy Laika, he might think you're crazy,' Gibbs smirked. Laika barked and licked Tony's face.

'Boss, this is that dog from yesterday!'

'Well, I'm glad that your detective skills are still intact,'

'Where did you get her?'

'Found her in a shelter. She's trained by a marine, who committed suicide, so I'm guessing it explains why she doesn't like guns,'

'Did he shoot himself?'

'I didn't asked. But I thought she might be a good way to get your mind off of things,'

Tony looked at Laika, who had sat down at his feet. The dog looked somehow very content and at ease. A dog. He never had had pets, let alone a dog. It would be nice, to have some company when he was alone.

'Yeah, I think I would like her,' Laika barked one more time, as if she wanted to say that that was obvious.

'Good. By the way, I've got the feeling she's more trained than you are,' Gibbs grinned.


	13. Race the Dog

_Disclaimer: do I look like the kind of girl who owes a TV show as great as NCIS? Or a TV show at all? Right._

_A/N: I'm staring at my screen for minutes to find a nice author's note, but it isn't really coming I guess :P _

_Well, another chapter, completely Tony-centric. I keep trying to add humor into it, hope that they aren't useless attempts. Laika wasn't fond of one, but my beta-reader (NcisRulz. There aren't enough ways to say thank you, really) thought it was. I leave it up to you :) Hope you like this chapter, leave a review if you do. Or if you don't. Either way: enjoy!_

* * *

**Race the dog**

'Are you sure you are ready to go home?' Gibbs asked again. He looked at his senior field agent. No, former senior field agent he reminded himself again. He tried to look through Tony's smile and usual I-am-fine-posture.

'I'm sure Boss, really. The last three days have opened my eyes I guess. If I keep feeling sorry for myself things never change. I still don't like my wheels and I will never like them. But for now it is the way things are and who knows what will change in the future? I know that a depression isn't over so soon as this, but I promised that I would call if I need to. And I will do that. Besides, I've got Laika now. She has already proven she won't take crap from me,' Tony's eyes wandered over to Laika. She was lying on the floor on a pillow, her eyes closed, but when she heard her name one ear popped up a bit.

Sometime the other day there had been a moment Tony had become furious. He had yelled at Gibbs that he didn't know what it was like to be in a chair, that he always acted like he knew everything and that he should back off. Laika had looked at him, a curious look in her eyes. She looked at Gibbs, who didn't say a thing. Tony ranted about being an adult and knowing how to take care of himself. Laika apparently had enough of it and started howling. Tony stopped talking. Laika stopped howling. Tony opened his mouth again, but Laika beat him to it: she barked one time.

'What!'

'I'm guessing, that she doesn't want to hear you talk like that,' Gibbs answered. A short bark was Laika's answer. 'And I have to agree with her. I don't think I know everything, but Tony, I just don't think that killing yourself would make things better. And I know on a certain level what you are going through,'

'What, you sat in a wheelchair and tried to kill yourself?'

Gibbs looked him directly in the eyes without saying a word.

'You . . . tried to . . .' Tony's voice trailed off. He couldn't apprehend the meaning of it. His Boss. His mentor. The man he had more respect for than for anyone in the world, had once been in a point where life didn't seem worth living anymore.

'But why?'

'I've lost the people I loved the most. Couldn't deal with it. I went to the beach, had the gun in my hands. Sat there for hours,'

'What stopped you?'

'Don't know for sure. Somehow I felt that if I did that, I would betray my . . . loved ones. They would never approve of what I was about to do. I couldn't do that to them. I'm glad I never did it,'

They sat together in silence. Laika was laying on Gibbs' feet. Gibbs bent over and stroked her on her head. His face was composed as ever, but somehow Tony knew not to pry further. It was more information about his personal life than Gibbs had ever told him before.

'Boss. I'm sor . . . I mean, I can't promise I will never feel mad and frustrated again. But I will not yell like that again,'

One short nod. End of discussion.

'So, when is that interview of yours tomorrow?'

* * *

Laika danced up and down next to Tony, who tried to get her under control.

'Don't . . . no. Laika, no!' Laika pulled at her leash, trying to get herself free. 'I know you're excited, but if you pull like that we will fall and I will go flat and that's not very funny,' Laika barked and sat down, her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Tony could swear she was grinning.

'Okay, let's make a deal here, right? After this interview I will let you walk around free but right now you've got two options: walking next to me with the leash, or walking next to me without. Either way, you have to behave like a good dog otherwise I'm leaving you outside. Got that?'

Laika laid down, one paw over her nose and howled softly. Tony couldn't help but laugh.

'Yeah, and I thought I could pout. Come on, let's go,' Laika walked beside him an exemplary dog while Tony made his way to a large building not far from his apartment. People were walking in and out hastily, beneath a big large sign that stated ZNN.

'Are you ready for it Laika?' A lick on his face was the only answer he got. 'Yeah, I'm nervous too,' Tony sighed. Laika barked, and walked a few feet ahead as if she was trying to encourage him. Five minutes later Tony and Laika entered the building of one of the largest television networks Tony knew.

* * *

'Can I help you sir?'

'I hope so,' Tony gave his trademark smile to the receptionist behind the desk. 'My name is Anthony DiNozzo and I've got an appointment with Sam Jones.'

'I will let him know that you are here,' the receptionist gestured to a row of chairs where he could wait.

A few minutes later an older man came into the lobby. He looked like he could lose a few pounds, Tony thought.

'Mister DiNozzo?'

'Yes sir, that's me,'

'Very well, why don't you follow me,' Tony followed with Laika. Sam Jones looked at the dog with a strange look on his face.

'I'm afraid that your dog has to wait outside Mister DiNozzo,'

'She will not,' Tony smiled friendly. 'Laika is very well trained and she helps me around a lot,' Sam looked at Laika again, who waited quietly next to Tony. Sam's eyes travelled down to Tony's wheels and he nodded shortly.

* * *

'Can you tell me why you want to work with us?' Sam sat behind his desk; in front of him lay a file with information about DiNozzo. He wondered how much was true. Tony sat relaxed in his chair, Laika right next to him. The office wasn't very big but it was nice. The carpet was deep blue, the walls were hung with articles and photos. On the left side of the room a large window offered a look downtown.

'I am not going to lie. I need a job. I've worked for NCIS for over five years, and I loved that job. But now I'm in this chair I can't do it anymore. At least not the way I wanted to. Working for ZNN is not my dream job, but it was appealing to me that I will be working with news as close to the fire as this,'

'You know that working here can be stressful?'

'Sir, I don't want to be condescending here, but I'm doubting that working for ZNN will gain the same stress levels as seeing your partner trying to deactivate a bomb while the timer is down to ten seconds – especially with the job I'm here for,'

'I can see that,' Sam smiled. The file in front of him hadn't lied. DiNozzo was honest and knew he was going to work way below his skills. 'I'm guessing that we are done then. If you follow me, I will show you the post office of ZNN,'

'Thank you, sir. Can I ask one question though?' Sam looked at him. 'Was that file of me really necessary? I mean, I'm going to deliver packages through the building. A file seems a bit overrated, don't you think?'

'Let's just say that when I know that a former member from the team of Gibbs' comes here to get a job, my curiosity gets the better of me,' Sam smiled. He didn't ask how Tony knew about the file. After all, he was a trained investigator.

'You know Gibbs?'

'We've had some interesting . . . conversations,' for a second Sam remembered the moments that he had talked with Gibbs, who was pissed because reporters disturbed his crime scene or were asking stupid questions.

Tony gave a big smile. 'I'm very sorry to hear that,' Sam chuckled. He liked DiNozzo already.

* * *

Together they got to the small post office on the first floor of the building. Sam opened the door and they were almost blast away with very loud music. With the rhythm of the music a woman and a guy were going through a large pile of envelopes and packages that lay on the table in the middle of the room.

Sam walked to the stereo set in a corner and pushed the stop button.

'How can you work with that noise?' asked Sam.

'Hey Sam! The music helps us concentrate,'

'It makes you deaf you mean. Anyhow, I want you to meet your new co-worker, this is Tony. Tony, meet Sandra and Ricardo. Our internal mail delivery people,'

'Hey Tony, nice to meet you,' Sandra said cheerful. Ricardo nodded and gave a short wave.

'If you guys show him around a bit, tell him what to do, I've got another appointment,' Sam left in a hurry, leaving Tony with his new colleagues.

'Dude, what happened with you?' Ricardo nodded to Tony's wheelchair. Tony swallowed. Well, at least they were straight forward. He was about to answer when Sandra punched Ricardo on his shoulder.

'Ricky, you can't ask stuff like that,' she hissed.

'What, it's not that we can ignore it,' Ricardo hissed back. Tony smiled a bit. They reminded him of Abby and McGee. Somehow that made it easier, but on the other hand it hurt more than he cared to admit.

'It's okay Sandra,' he said. 'It's not a very big secret. I caught a bullet at my last job, severed the spinal cord,' he gave a short explanation. Their eyes widened with shock, but before they could ask more questions Tony decided to talk about his new job.

'So, what am I going to do here? Sam told me I have to deliver packages through the building?'

'Ehm, yeah,' Sandra nodded. 'It's pretty easy, the building is separated in three parts: floor one to three, four to six and seven to nine. Every week you have another part where you deliver. The packages are usually already categorized – except when someone' her eyes darted to Ricardo 'falls over the bags or something so that everything is spread out on the floor and we have to start over,'

'Does that happen often?' Tony laughed.

'No, thank heaven it doesn't. Sorting is a bitch,' Sandra sighed.

'But when everything goes to plan, we deliver the packages in the morning and in the afternoon we fetch the internal mail and deliver that as fast as possible,'

'That makes sense. What are those things?'

'Oh yeah, you'd like a tour?' Ricardo leapt up. He pointed out the cabinet on the left side. 'This is where new mail comes in during the day. Every floor has a shelf, every shelf is divided into the offices on that floor. Here,' he walked to the far side of the small post office, 'is the copier and printer and a computer. We still don't really know what that is doing here because we never use them. Next to the computer is the week schedule. It's also the planner to indicate if you need a day off or something. If you want a day off you have to schedule it a week in front. Oh and here is the coffee machine and the fridge. We are lucky, most floors have to share one or two fridges, we don't need to share with others. So, what do you want to do next? Help sorting or starting delivering on the first floor?' He gestured from the large pile of mail to a bag with packages and envelopes.

Before Tony could answer that question Ricardo and Sandra started bickering over what was the best way to get to know the building. All the time Laika had sat under a table, watching every movement that the three people made. Tony looked at her, and she already recognized the sparkle in his eyes. What was her new boss about to do?

Without making a sound Tony went over to the bag with mail. Carefully he hoisted it up onto his lap, and he nudged with his head towards the door. Laika got up and followed him quietly, leaving the two bickering people behind.

'You know, I think we will manage to find our way in this building. Let's see . . . this package is addressed to an André Cover, apparently working on the second floor . . .' Tony looked at Laika who was walking right beside him. 'If a girl gets laid by him, she could literally say she went 'undercover'' he grinned, while searching for the elevator. Laika didn't look up at him.

'What? Not funny? Hmm, I thought so, really,' They went into the elevator, with a dozen other people.

* * *

It took Tony less than one week to become completely, utterly and undeniably bored with his new job. His new colleagues were fine people. They were easy to talk with, fun to hang around with and they didn't ask nosy questions he didn't want to answer. The people he delivered the mail to were mostly reasonably kind, but very busy. There were a few reporters in the building he had really talked to. The moment Tony had found out they covered news about government agencies he had decided to warm up a connection. It was the best way to stay informed as quick as possible: he couldn't let go of NCIS completely.

Every day he went home, and he ate and cleaned up the mess he had left when he went out to work. He walked with Laika, sometimes playing with her. He had learned to read her like she was a human. He found out she had moods, opinions and certain hobbies. He even found out that she really was fond of his leftover pizza and hated dry food. The biggest surprise was that she liked beer. After spilling some on the floor, due to a painful encounter with a table, she was quicker than light to lick it up.

'You can't do that too often, Laika,' Tony sighed. Laika looked at him innocently. 'Come on, what would Gibbs say if he saw you drunk? He would slap me silly, that's right! Why can't you just hate beer like any good sober dog would...' Tony fell silent and thought of something. He went to his kitchen, and got a beer from the fridge. He poured some of it in Laika's water bowl and placed it in front of her. Five minutes later the beer was gone and Laika was looking up at Tony expectantly: she wanted more.

'Well, I guess you found yourself a new treat girl. Malt beer it is,' Tony grinned. 'But believe me, if I ever, and I mean _ever,_ catch you with an alcoholic beverage, I will never play catch with you again. Got that?'

'Woof!'

'Good girl. Now let's watch this movie,' Tony reached for the DVD case but Laika beat him to it. She took it in her mouth, and walked away with it.

'What, it's not good enough or something?' Laika stood in front of his door, looking back to see if he was coming.

'You want to go outside with it? You want to take my Special Edition of The Italian Job outside?' Tony looked bewildered. What on earth was she up to? 'I am not going to open that door for you Laika. Forget it. I just want to watch...'

Laika opened the door and left his apartment. Tony grabbed a coat and followed her, closing the door behind him.

'Why did I have to teach her how to open doors... Laika! Wait up!' He wheeled at top speed to the elevators, seeing Laika running down the stairs.

'That's cheating!' Tony yelled down the stairs. He raced into the elevator and tried to look it down harder. When he got out he saw Laika waiting outside.

'If I find dents in that casing, I'm going to kill you!' Laika ran down the street, turned left and took off. Tony followed her as fast as possible. Every time he thought he lost her, she would stand somewhere as if she was waiting for him. They turned a right, through a park. Tony now really got into it. He wheeled faster and faster, cutting off the edges of the path he was following. Laika left the small park, took a right and crossed a street. Tony shot a quick glance to both sides and crossed the street too. Suddenly he recognized the neighborhood. He knew where Laika was going, and even better: he knew a short cut.

He turned right instead of following Laika again. If he was correct, there would be a small set of stairs behind the block. The moment he took the corner and saw the stairs two things hit him: the stairs were bigger than he remembered. And how the hell was he suppose to go down them? He knew Laika had to run up and down a hill before she could reach the right street. The only problem to take the stairs was that if he lost balance he would fall. Hard. And even though he didn't feel a thing in his legs, the idea off falling down the stairs wasn't very attractive. But losing this race from Laika would be too embarrassing.

Tony took a deep breath and looked down the stairs. Ten steps. Ten possible fatal steps. The positive side of it was that he wouldn't need his chair anymore. Oh come on DiNozzo, you always liked taking a risk or two. Another deep breath and off he went.

Tony started balancing himself on two wheels. Carefully he rolled forwards, down to the step. He almost lost balance, but gained it with one swift pull on the breaks. The second step went more fluently, he recognized the right way to balance when he was standing on a step and when he landed on one. Along the way down a wide grin spread on his face. He knew he had learned how to do wheelies for a reason! He hopped down the last one, and looked back up the stairs he just took. A familiar face was looking down on him.

'Laika! I thought you were over there. This was a race remember?' Laika ran down the stairs and dropped his DVD case on his lap. It was almost spotless, a bit wet from her saliva but that was it.

'Good girl, not even a scratch,' Tony smiled. 'But you know that you are really not getting the point of racing? You are supposed to try and win from me, not to follow me around,'

Laika licked his face, and waggled with her tail a bit.

'Oh I get it. You thought that I would break my neck, didn't you?'

'Woof!'

'Well, I wasn't planning to do so. But thanks anyway for having my six. No, I'm guessing that you didn't really want to race then did you?'

Another bark was the response, and Laika walked a few steps ahead.

'Alright, I'm coming already. Does Ziva even know we are going to watch a movie at her place? Does she even have an elevator in her building, because going down the stairs is easier than going up. I'm not even sure if it's possible to go up a stairs on wheels,' Tony talked on, while Laika walked further away.

'Maybe we should call her? Oh wait, I left my cell phone at home because someone decided to take off in a hurry,' he looked up and saw he was talking to himself.

'Hey, Laika. Wait up!'


	14. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo

_Disclaimer: it was my birthday recently. Had some great gifts, but no NCIS, so I still don't own it. In about a month it's Sinterklaas in the Netherlands (were I live. Sinterklaas is like Santa Clause but different. No elves, reindeers, but we've got presents too) so I keep on hoping!_

_A/N: It took some time (me and my beta are busy with school. Bugger) but I hope it was worth the wait: this chapter has 8001 words, hope that that makes up for the long wait ;)_

_Without further ado I present you proudly the next chapter of Ad Fundum. Buckle up, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!_

* * *

**Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo**

It was almost five o'clock when Ziva walked into the bullpen with fierce steps. She radiated with anger. She had been rather content that day, still enjoying the memories of the evening before. Tony had showed up on her doorstep with Laika and a movie and they had had a fun night. She hadn't seen Tony in such a happy mood for months, and she was glad he was finally getting back to the 'old' Tony. But that was yesterday. Today, she had other things on her mind. And the main thing, her target, sat at his desk working on a report. Because of him, Dimitri Field had escaped today. A ranger had spotted him in a cabin in the woods, and they had chased him down. Ziva was about to jump on him when her new so-called partner passed by her and wanted to do the same thing. But he missed Field and crashed on the ground. And because she couldn't make a turn that sharp, Ziva had ended up in a mud pool, and Field had escaped in a car. Not only that he had escaped again had pissed her off, but she was forced to change into a NCIS jogging suit for the second time in less than a month. John River was a dead man. She really, _really_ was going to kill him. Very slowly and very painfully. Ziva was half way there, her fingers already reaching for her knife, when Gibbs walked out of MTAC and down the stairs. He gave her a look and Ziva stopped in her tracks. Fine. She would kill him later. Trying to temper her anger, Ziva followed Gibbs to his office. She didn't speak, not even when the elevator came to a stop with the usual screeching of the breaks. Gibbs looked at her for a moment.

'He isn't DiNozzo,' he said finally.

'I _know_ he isn't. He proved that today, didn't he?!'

'It could have happened to anyone. Tony wasn't perfect,'

'I never said that Tony was the perfect agent. But at least I could count on him. He had my eight,'

'Six,'

'That too. Be realistic Gibbs, if Tony had been in our team instead of John today, Field would _not_ have gotten away _again_. And I would not be walking in a NCIS jogging suit for the second time in less than a month!'

'Listen Ziva. What you and Tony had in the field may have felt normal to you, but believe me, it does not happen that often. You knew exactly what the other would do. Movements, reactions, you even knew from each other which target was for whom, without saying a thing. And even that feeling for each other had to grow over the years you worked together,'

'But in Mossad . . .' Ziva protested.

'In Mossad everybody got the same training. Everyone thought like you did. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, but in the end you and Tony had it coming naturally. Tony never had your training. He has learned a lot on the streets in Baltimore and maybe I've added to some of his skills. And yet you could work together perfectly. I've talked with River already, he knows he did the wrong thing today. And I know it's hard to get used to a new guy in the team, but can you give it another try? Please?'

Ziva looked up surprised. Gibbs saying please?

'Fine. But if I end up in another river, lake or mud pool because of him, he really has to pay for it!'

'Sure,' Gibbs smirked. He pulled on the emergency stop from the elevator to get it moving up again.

Moments later they walked out the elevator, and Gibbs almost crashed into a janitor. The janitor mumbled an excuse and walked further. Gibbs looked at his back. Something was off. Before he could give it any further thought, Abby stood in front of him.

'I've found something Gibbs! It's big! No, it's huge! Bigger than huge!'

'What is it Abs?'

'I've found out where Field lives!'

'We've been there already Abby, his neighbors haven't seen him for months. Thought he had moved, remember?' Gibbs' eyes still were trained on the janitor who left the bullpen.

'No, not his official address, but the place where he stays now!'

* * *

Another five hours later Gibbs, McGee, River and Ziva returned to the bullpen. Empty handed. Ziva was shivering, it was cold outside and she still wore the jogging suit that she had put on after her dive into a mud pool.

The house they had searched was empty. Well**, **someone lived there who hated NCIS and especially Gibbs, but he wasn't there. They had tagged and bagged a lot of stuff: pictures, newspaper articles and maps, but nothing useful. Nothing that would lead them to Field. They didn't even know if this was his refuge or if he had abandoned it already. It was irritating that they still hadn't gotten enough evidence to track him down. He left a lot behind, but nothing that showed where he was or what he was up to. John had brought Abby the evidence two hours before, and she had gone home after processing it. It wasn't much and she was done with it quick enough. Ducky was gone already and even the Director had gone home. They were the only ones in the building, besides the security guards and the janitors.

Gibbs tossed his jack behind his desk, placed his gun and badge in the drawer and sat down. When Ziva, McGee and John followed his lead he gestured with his hand.

'Go home guys. It's been a long day. We'll search further in the morning. Seven sharp,'

'I wouldn't count on that, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs,' sounded from behind them. Gibbs froze. He stood up carefully, and turned around. Ziva, McGee and River stood frozen behind their desks, looking shocked.

'Dimitri Field, I presume?'

'That's right. I thought it was time to talk a little, discuss the past, make sure to end things in the right way,' Field walked out of the shadows. In his hands a gun, on his shoulder a rifle. He wore a NCIS janitor outfit – and Gibbs knew exactly what had been off that evening. He had bumped into Field, even recognized him subconsciously, but Abby's lead had stopped him taking a deeper look into it. The reason he should have known was easy: there never were janitors at that time of day in the bullpen. And now it was too late to follow his gut.

'And what would be the right way?'

'Funny you should ask. Payback is a bitch, isn't it? An eye for an eye . . .'

'The world goes blind,' Gibbs responded. He wished he hadn't placed his gun away already.

'I would rather say that Gibbs goes dead. Has a nice ring to it doesn't it? YOU! Don't move! None of you move!' Field pointed the gun to Ziva, who had tried to get her knife.

'I know what you're up to, Mossad Officer David. I want you to get rid of every weapon you have on you. Guns, knives, everything,' Ziva shot a look at Gibbs, who had his eyes trained on Field.

'Do it, Ziva. You know what he is capable of,' Gibbs said softly. Ziva reluctantly started to disarm herself.

Field started to unbutton his jacket. What he wore under it was even more shocking than the situation itself: a bomb was strapped around his chest.

'Looks nice, doesn't it?' Field glanced down after he saw the look of pure terror on River.'Don't worry, I won't hold out on you. Got one for each and every one of you,' He grabbed a bag that he had placed at his feet. No one had seen it until then.

'I want all of you to go up those stairs, and stand against the wall,' Field gestured towards the balcony. With their eyes on the gun, the rifle, the bag and the bomb on his chest, they started moving. Field followed every move they made. He walked behind them on the stairs.

'With your backs against the wall, hands were I can see them. If I even suspect you of trying to do something, I will blow everyone to pieces,' He lay down the rifle, placed the gun behind his waistband and started to place the bomb vests around the chests of the NCIS agents. He did it precise, without haste but very securely. When he reached to Ziva she had to restrain herself from attacking him. She didn't know how the bomb worked. Was there a remote or another way of triggering it? It was simply not worth the risk. Not yet.

'What are you up to Field,' Gibbs asked. His face didn't show any emotions, his voice was stern but calm. 'Because there will be people coming in again tomorrow. Are you going to keep them hostage too? You are not after them. Or my team. You want me. Let them go, and we will talk,'

'Ha, you think it will be that easy? You have one chance to call somebody to inform the world about my revenge actions. One call. I want to hear it on speaker. No tricks, or one of your beloved agents gets killed. Again,' Field stepped back, took the rifle back up and checked if he had loaded it.

Gibbs mind was racing. He couldn't do much but to call Jenny and hope that a sniper was able to take Field out. Even that was dangerous, because it could trigger the bombs. But right now that was the**ir** only option. The security guards never did a round before midnight.

'I will call the Director of NCIS if that's okay with you,' he said. 'But for that I have to grab my phone which is laying on my desk,' he nodded towards the desk downstairs.

'Then you will call with my phone,' Dimitri Field grabbed a phone out of his pocket, and tossed it towards Gibbs. It landed on the floor a few feetin front of him.

'Can I pick it up?' Field nodded. Gibbs took the phone and dialed Jenny's number. He set it on speaker and held it in front of him. The dial tone sounded shrill through the empty bullpen.

'Jenny Shepard,'

'Director, this is Special Agent Gibbs. Dimitri Field has taken Special Agent McGee, Special Agent River, Officer David and myself hostage,'

'Excuse me?'

Gibbs looked at Field.

'That should do it,' Field said. Gibbs hung up without saying a word.

'Now the Director is informed, why don't we sit down together and talk a bit?'

The agents exchanged nervous glances. Gibbs sat down first, leaning back against the wall. Next to him sat McGee, who had Ziva on his other side. River finished the line. Field sat down too. He sat in front of Gibbs, his rifle in his lap, pointed at them. Field's idea of talking apparently was that he talked and others listened to him. He ranted about his brother and that the things he had done weren't his fault. He talked about Gibbs, that he had made a grave error in judgment by killing the poor innocent lad. And he talked about himself, how great he was in luring Gibbs into a trap.

They sat and listened for hours. McGee's mind wondered off, his eyes never leaving the rifle. It was indeed a Bravo 51. A Kate. He remembered seeing Kate, lying on the slab in autopsy. He remembered the people Field had killed. He remembered their families when they brought them the news. Would his family be the next to get such an awful message?

Ziva didn't miss a word Field was saying. He was crazy. He really was completely mental. She was without knives, but there were other ways to overpower an enemy. He should be getting tired at some point. And then she would strike. Deadly and without mercy. She had to. She knew she was able to do it. So she waited, trying to keep alert, and at the same time she tried to get a better look at the bomb around their chests. She was pretty sure he had used a remote, not a dead man's switch. That was good, that worked in her favor. If only she knew where he kept the remote…

River was more terrified than he had ever had been in his entire life. He had thought that working in Gibbs' team would be a promotion. A dream come true. But it had been hard to fit in, to get his rules, to understand the ways they interacted with each other. Every day he felt like the shadow of Anthony DiNozzo was hovering over him, letting him know he would never be the field agent in this team that he had been. Accepting this position probably was the worst decision he had ever made. That there was a bomb strapped around his chest didn't help either.

Gibbs tried in his head every possibility he could think of. If he only could get his team out of there, things would have looked different. He could take him down easily, but with his team around a stray bullet could be deadly. So he waited. He knew Jenny would have called with the security guards, and they would have a live feed from the security cameras. There was only one thing to do. Wait. Waiting until they were rescued. Or dead.

* * *

Tony whistled while he rolled down the parking lot towards the ZNN building. Laika danced around him. They both were in a reasonably happy mood today. After they had had a very good night at Ziva's, watching movies, laughing and talking, they went home. While wheeling home, Tony had tried to take a stairs up instead of down, in his wheelchair. It wasn't a complete success because he had slipped and fallen down half way, but he figured out it could be done. The only off side was that it took a lot of time. Besides that, it was fun to do. Laika had looked at him while he was trying to do something practically impossible and her eyes were telling him he was crazy, but when he had fallen down she had licked his face. He guessed it was her way to show she cared about him.

He entered the building, waved hello to the receptionist, and crashed almost into a reporter who came running out of the elevator.

'Sorry! Hostage situation!' he yelled, and run further without looking back. Laika looked at his back, barking like crazy.

'Hush, Laika, he's in a hurry and I'm guessing it's important. Come on, don't want to get late at this awesome fun job, don't we?' he smirked a bit and wondered how he could get through this day without dying of boredom.

Around NCIS headquarters it was crowded with people. Snipers were sitting on the roof, trying to get a good shot at Field. News reporters had collected themselves behind the gates, not allowed to get any closer. Jenny Shepard was in conversation with a SWAT team, planning their tactics. They were seated in a big van, which was set up as headquarters. Abby sat together with Ducky, not knowing what to do. Jenny had informed them about the situation. Security footage had shown that they were alive, but had bombs strapped on their chests. It was still not clear how the bombs would go off, and it was even less clear what Field wanted. He hadn't called back, and when they called his number he hadn't answered his phone.

'We can go in any time ma'am,' the leader of the SWAT team said to Jenny.

'But you won't. The chances that they come out alive if you do are too small. We will try to establish contact, try to figure out what he wants. No one shoots him until I say so. Got that?'

'Yes ma'am,'

* * *

Tony entered the mail room, where the music was blaring loud as ever. He waved a hello to his colleagues, and looked which section he had today. Floor one to three. Good, nice people worked on those floors.

He took his mail and drove off, Laika right behind him. He waved a few times to greet a reporter or secretary, but didn't take his time to talk to any of them. When he had delivered the mail he would have more time. He rolled to the elevator, and the doors closed. Two people had joined him, and they were talking softly.

'He's got a grudge apparently, could end deadly,' an older guy who looked unhealthy slim said to a younger one who was scribbling things down.

'Did he ever do something like this before?'

'They don't know, he killed a bunch of people but that's about it,'

The elevator stopped on the second floor and they left the elevator, still talking.

'Sounds ugly Laika. Hope they will catch the bastard. Now let's see who we have today. Max has a package. You know what that means don't you? Right, dog treats! So, if you take that one I will take the other one for … let's see… Taylor Kelly. Don't stay with Max too long, you will get fat,' he grinned while Laika took the package. They left the elevator together, Laika went left and Tony rolled straight ahead.

'Hey Tony, what are you doing here?' Taylor asked, looking up from her work.

'Delivering your mail, what else should I be doing?'

'Don't you know yet? I thought you would be there right now!'

'Listen, gorgeous, if you could explain where I should be according to you, that would be nice. Because I have no idea where you're talking about!'

'There is a hostage situation,' Taylor started.

'I know. Happens sometimes, what's the big deal?'

'It's at NCIS. Your boss was,' she looked at the computer screen in front of her 'Special Agent Gibbs right?'

Tony 's hands lost the grip on the package he was holding.

'Did someone take Gibbs hostage?' That was impossible.

'And his team. A serial killer, he has strapped them with bombs…' before Taylor could say anything else, Tony had tossed the mail onto the floor, he whistled for Laika and drove off. Laika was just about to receive her very much appreciated dog treat when she heard a familiarly whistle. She looked up and saw Tony wheeling at neck braking speed. She ignored the treat in Max's hand and flew towards the elevator. Just before it closed she got in. Tony's mind was racing. Who dared to do something like this? He remembered the conversation he overheard just minutes before. Someone with a grudge. A serial killer. That could only mean one person. Field. He had to get there. Now. The moment the elevator landed he hit the button to open the doors, and without looking he wanted to take off again.

'Hey Tony, what's the rush?' Sam stood in his way.

'Gibbs has been taken hostage with Ziva and McGee. I have to be there,'

'But the mail…'

'Deliver it yourself if you have to. I'm taking the day off or I quit. You may decide,' without looking back Tony took off again, Laika following him closely. She still didn't understand why he was in such a hurry, but if he wanted to run she would run with him. Two minutes later he was racing off the parking lot, towards NCIS headquarters.

* * *

'Then let me talk to the Director!' Tony was getting desperate. He was standing behind the gate of NCIS, surrounded by at least hundred reporters and several TV-crews, and he wasn't allowed to get in. He was talking to a guard, who refused to let him through.

'Listen, they know me there! I'm a Special Agent, if you just get…'

'Yeah, and if I turn my back on you you're through right? If you are a Special Agent, where is your badge?'

Badge. Of course! Tony had the urge to slap himself on the back of the head. Gibbs voice rang through his head. _I want you to keep this. For now. Until you are really sure you don't want it anymore._

Ever since that day he carried his badge with him. Always, wherever he went. He was so used to it he had forgotten that he had taken it with him. He shoved a hand in his pocket and took it out.

'This is my badge, that picture, that is me. Now, are you going to let me through or do I really have to get mad?' The guard looked sharply at the badge and the small photo inside. He stepped aside and let him through.

Tony wheeled to the big van on the parking lot. He saw the snipers on the roof, sitting more or less relaxed – as far as that was possible in such a position. He knocked on the door of the van, which opened immediately.

'Tony!' Abby got up and gave him a big hug. He got in the van and joined her and Ducky at the table. Around them people were talking through headsets and working on computers.

'I'm so glad you're here! I tried to call you but you didn't answer and I didn't know how to reach you and Duck and I are just sitting and waiting!'

'Couldn't reach me?' Tony grabbed his cell phone, and looked at it. Battery dead. 'Sorry Abs, forgot to recharge it. How long is this been going on?'

'Since last night, late in the evening. Gibbs called me,' Jenny appeared in front of them. 'I called with security, they hadn't seen a thing on the camera's because they were messed with. After they got them repaired, they saw that Field was holding them hostage on the balcony, bombs strapped around their chests. We still don't know what Field wants, he hasn't contacted us since he let Gibbs call it in and we can't contact him,'

Tony almost rolled his eyes. Hadn't she read the files about the family Field? 'Are you playing stupid, Jen? It's perfectly clear what Field wants. Matter of fact is, in a way he already has it!'

'What are you talking about?'

'I though you liked butting in our cases? Did you miss this one?'

'DiNozzo, come clear or leave. I can't follow every case Gibbs is working on, and you don't have the right to speak to me like that!'

'Field wants revenge. Gibbs has killed his brother, and there is only one thing Field wants now, and that is Gibbs dead. He doesn't want money or stuff like that. I'm guessing that the only reason he hasn't killed them yet is that he wants to get as much media attention as possible. To show that Gibbs isn't the perfect agent everyone thinks he is. Why haven't you taken him down already?' Tony really couldn't believe that they hadn't figured that out yet.

'Because he has strapped himself and the team with bombs. We don't know how they work, if there is a dead man's switch or not. I am not taking any risks here,'

'Well, I'm glad that you've become more careful with the lives of your people,' Tony said with a bitter tone in his voice. He still hadn't forgiven her for what she had put him through. He wasn't sure if he ever would.

'Now now, Tony, take it easy. Maybe we can resolve this thing together,' Ducky said. 'Do you still not know what will set the bombs off, Director?'

'No idea, the security footage is too vague to make it clear. But there isn't a switch in his hands, that is certain,'

'He has no switch in his hands?' Jenny placed a few pictures on the table. They were sitting against the wall, the bombs clearly visible. Field had in one hand a rifle, with the other he was gesturing something towards Gibbs.

'It isn't a dead man's switch,' Tony said. 'He wouldn't want to take such a big risk,'

'What do you mean?'

'Dimitri Field wants attention. He wants to let the world know what he's feeling and thinking. He isn't a stable person, not by a long shot. I'm guessing that he wouldn't want to take the risk that he would lose control over himself and set the bombs off too early. It would take away his chance to tell his story. So it must be a remote he has in a pocket or something,' Tony explained, while taking another close look at the pictures. He couldn't make out much more detail.

'So if it isn't a dead man's switch, it would be possible to take him out?'

'Only if he's further away from the others. The bullet could go straight through, hitting someone else,'

'Are you really sure?'

'I've seen it up close and personal, so yeah, I'm absolutely sure,' he looked Jenny straight in the eyes. 'I'm going in,' he said.

'No,' Jenny sounded unyielding. 'I won't let you,'

Without thinking Tony stood up. 'That is my team in there, Director. And I will not stand by, doing nothing, when they are in trouble. So if you want to stop me from going in, you will have to shoot me!' he sat down again, and rolled to the door. He missed Abby's gasp of surprise, and Ducky's look of wonder.

'Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo!' Jenny raised her voice. Tony looked back, not looking at Abby or Ducky. Laika was already outside.

'The one and only,' and he left the van.

Abby looked at Ducky and Jen. Her eyes were wide and her mouth tried to form words.

'Did you see that? Did he really do that? Ducky, did you see that too?' she finally managed to say. Ducky smiled friendly.

'I think I did, Abby. I think Tony used his legs. I'm not sure though, if he noticed that he just stood up like he never had done anything else,'

'Well, let's just hope it won't kill him,' Jenny said mad, but with concern in her voice.

* * *

Tony let himself and Laika into the building. His mind was already racing through ways to get upstairs, to distract Field and to get his team out. Laika stood next to him, ready for anything he had in mind.

'Are you sure you want to go in with me girl? Because this is going to get dangerous,' Laika just sat down and looked at him.

'Okay, fine with me, but you have to promise one thing though,' Tony looked serious. 'I know you hate guns. I know you don't like it when people wave guns at others, but you cannot jump this guy. He is really dangerous, has bombs strapped around everybody in there. If you jump on him, you will not only put Gibbs, McGee and Ziva in danger, but you will get yourself in danger too. I don't want that to happen, got that?'

Laika placed her paws on Tony's lap, and barked one time.

'Good girl. Now, let's go upstairs and see what's happening there,' he rolled towards a door with Maintenance on it. Laika didn't follow.

'What? There is a service elevator here somewhere. If I use the regular ones, he will hear it because there is that bell when the doors open. Come on, he won't see us immediately,' Laika still didn't move, but howled softly.

'You want me to have a plan? Laika, there is no way I can have a plan right now. I don't know what has changed since those pictures. If I want to make a plan, I need to see what's going on up there. I promise, I will be careful. Now, are you coming?' finally Laika joined him, and they got into the service elevator.

* * *

Tony rolled out the elevator and tried to figure out where he was. If he remembered correctly, he was in another Maintenance room, and behind the door would be a small corridor. Behind the corner would be the bullpen.

'We have to be very quiet Laika. One sound and he will kill us all. Stay behind me for now, okay?'

A very soft bark was his answer, and Tony couldn't help but a grin a little. She really was a smart dog. They left the Maintenance room quietly and indeed entered a corridor. It was longer than Tony remembered, and he rolled down as quietly as possible in the direction of the bullpen. Laika walked behind Tony, not making a sound.

Tony peaked around the corner. The bullpen was completely deserted, the lights were out. His eyes travelled towards the balcony, where he saw Field standing with his back towards him. He could just make out the heads of Gibbs, McGee, Ziva and River. He could hear Field talking loud and clear.

'You still don't get it Gibbs?! He was innocent, he didn't do anything wrong. He was the one who suffered because of the others. He only wanted justice, and he made sure he got it!'

'Those people never did anything to him. Why do you want me to say he was right? I never intended to kill him, he shot at me. It was self-defense,' Gibbs sounded calm.

'No it wasn't! You killed him because you were jealous of him! If you don't say it soon, I will blow you all to pieces!'

'With what, you keep saying that but you haven't proven anything yet. I think you're a coward!' Ziva said with a taunting tone in her voice. Tony didn't really get what she was getting at.

'I am not a coward! Fine, if you don't want to tell the truth, it doesn't matter! I've got a letter in my bag, explaining it all. With this remote I will detonate the bombs, and you'll die because you are too vain to admit the truth!' Field walked up and down in front of them, and took out a small remote from his pocket.

'With this button I will finish you off. All of you! Now get up! On your feet!' The four hostages scrambled onto their feet.

Tony didn't listen to any more of the ranting, and scanned the bullpen. He needed a gun. Why did he leave the van without taking a gun? How was he supposed to get Field down without one? He remembered that Ziva always had at least one spare in her desk. But wheeling to her desk was a risk too big to take. He was a liability in his chair, a target so big that if he came in yelling, with flashlights on his head and a siren to go with it, it would be just as obvious. Laika could open the drawer probably, but he didn't want to put her in that situation. He was the Special Agent. He had to handle it. No one else. And there was only one way he could do it. He wheeled back a few feet into the corridor.

'Listen, Laika. I need you to stay here. Don't follow me. I'm going to get us some firepower. Be a good girl for me now,' he whispered. Laika licked his face and lay down. Tony wheeled to the corner, and considered his options. He knew that Ziva's desk wasn't the closest, but Tony had no idea who kept a spare gun and who didn't. And he hadn't had the time to try it out. He probably had one chance. If he failed, everything would be blown to pieces. So he had only one option.

He set the breaks on his chair, and looked at his legs. He needed them now more than ever. The adrenaline was racing through his body. This was not about him. He couldn't care less. This was about his team. His friends. His family. It was all that mattered.

Tony sat his feet on the floor, put pressure on them, and slowly made his way up. He stood. His knees were almost buckling beneath him, but he managed to stay up. Just do it. No time to hesitate. No time to argue. One step. You can do it. You have to do it. Two steps. Here we go, look at that. Nice and easy. It's like riding a bike, don't think it through. Tony looked up, and saw Field with his back turned towards him. He sneaked through the bullpen, staying close to the dividers between the different desks. He managed to make no noise, although his legs were hurting like crazy. Tony ignored the pain and crawled, slightly panting, behind the divider of Ziva's desk. He had made it without Field seeing him and he still hadn't detonated the bombs.

He slipped behind Ziva's desk, hoping Ziva hadn't locked her drawer. Or that it didn't need oil. Very slowly he pulled at the handle. Finally, inch by inch, he opened it. No lock. Bless you Ziva. Tony heaved himself up a bit, and peaked in the drawer. He had little light to see by, but what he saw made his heart jump: a spare gun with not one but two clips of bullets. With the same care he had opened the drawer, Tony started to pick up his treasures. He left the drawer open, not taking the risk of making a sound when closing it.

As soundless he had came in, Tony got out. He felt his knees buckle several time, the pain was breathtaking, but he had to get back. A mantra was going through his head. For them. For family. It seemed to take hours but suddenly he was back in the corridor, out of sight from Field, and he slid down into his chair. Laika was standing already, looking at her boss who suddenly had decided to not use his wheels when he left and now he needed them again. People were strange animals.

'Laika, we've got to get upstairs,' Tony was panting. It had cost a large amount of energy to walk when he hadn't done it in months. 'Come on. No time to waste,' It was time to make up step two. Hadn't he seen a movie like this?

* * *

Tony and Laika sat in another corridor, which lead to the office of Jenny. He had made a plan, which he hated the minute he made it. But he needed a diversion, and it was the best he could get.

'Listen Laika. I'm really serious about this one. If you want to walk away, now is the time to do it. I can work out something else, you know?' Laika didn't move. 'I really wouldn't hate you for doing it,' Laika looked at him like he was saying really stupid things.

'Okay. Just promise me that if he starts shooting at you, you will run your ass off to get out of here. No matter what. Got that?' Tony embraced his dog, who had turned into a great friend.

'I love you Laika. I really do,' he whispered. He let her go, and wanted to turn around to get to the other side of the balcony above the bullpen. Laika placed her front paws on his lap again and pressed her nose into his neck. One last very wet lick, and she went down again. After that, she crawled towards the corner of the corridor. Tony went the other way around and made haste to get to his spot on time.

All the way he couldn't get it out of his head that his idea was stupid. One of the most idiotic things he had ever done. There were so many uncertainties, it scared the shit out of him. What if his legs couldn't hold him anymore? What if Ziva, McGee or Gibbs didn't get what Laika did? What if they didn't ignore her like they were supposed to? What if Field did not hesitate and just shoot her point blank the minute she walked in? What if he didn't drop the remote?

He raced through the halls, went into the elevator and pushed the button to go up several times. When the elevator finally reached the floor he raced through the corridor, and made it to his spot. Carefully he placed himself in the shadows, now looking directly at the balcony where they sat. Laika wasn't in sight yet, and Field hadn't a clue. He was still preaching about how unfair the world was, the remote in one hand, the rifle in his other. It was scary to see that he had set the team against the wall like he was going to execute them.

Come on Laika, what are you waiting for? Tony was getting anxious. He couldn't just get over there with his gun at the ready while Field was still holding on tight to that stupid remote. Suddenly he saw the movement at the other end of the balcony. There she was.

Laika came into sight, walking over the balcony like she belonged there. She ignored the friends of her boss, like she was told to, and made her way over to the man with the gun. He had stopped talking in the middle of a sentence, his mouth hanging open a bit while he looked at her.

'What is this!' he suddenly yelled, looking from Gibbs to Laika and back. 'What are you up too!' River had looked at Laika when she walked in but when Field started yelling his eyes shifted to him. Ziva plainly ignored Laika, but she couldn't help thinking that if Laika was there, Tony would be there too. This must be some kind of strange plan he had made up, and although she had not the slightest clue what he expected to do with Laika, it was a diversion. Maybe she could use it. McGee had shot a sideway glance to Ziva, and then to Gibbs. They both seemed unfazed by what was happening. He tried to look like they did and looked at Field. It was Gibbs who spoke up first.

'What are you talking about?'

'That dog! Whose dog is it?'

'What dog?'

'_There_! Black, four paws, a tail. That dog!'

'I don't see a dog. Do you guys see a dog?'

'Nope, not really,' Ziva smiled kindly. Laika still was ignoring all of them, and now she stood at the feet of Dimitri Field, looking up at him and suddenly she lifted herself up, placing her paws against his chest, and she barked.

'What the…' Field dropped the rifle and the remote, not expecting the dog to stand up against him. Laika licked his face, barked and landed down again. Suddenly his whole appearance changed, he smiled softly, went down on his knees and started to cuddle with Laika.

It was that moment that Ziva decided to attack. She moved forwards, wanting to kick Field in the face, but he saw her moving and he stood up very quickly.

'Stand against that wall sugar, I'm done with you!' The soft smile was gone and the hostage-taker was back. He pulled the gun out of his waistband and placed the barrel at her head. 'You should have known better than to mess with me, because now you are a dead woman,'

'Go ahead, you will never get away with it,' Ziva kept taunting. She was done waiting. Whatever Field would do next, it would be the biggest mistake of his live. Laika sneaked away from the balcony.

Field pulled the safety back, a shot rang through the bullpen, someone fell down with a big thump.

'You stupid idiot!' Field was raging with anger when he processed what happened.

'You really thought that I would let you shoot her?' John lay on the floor, gasping with pain. The bullet had hit him square in the shoulder when he had pushed Ziva aside.

'Idiot! You thought that by saving her life I wouldn't kill all of you? I will blow you all up!!' He looked around for the remote control, but it wasn't there.

'What the…!'

'Federal Agent! Put your weapon down now!' Tony yelled from the other side. He walked down the balcony, his gun trained at Dimitri Field.

'I will not surrender! Never!' Tony felt as if time suddenly slowed down. He saw Field turning around, pointing his gun directly at him. He saw Field's fingers pulling at the trigger and without thinking Tony took his shot. He felt the backfire of the gun, and at the same time the soft stinging of a bullet grazing his arm. At the same moment he saw his own bullet searing through the air, hitting Dimitri Field straight between the eyes. Slowly he fell backward, crashing down on the balcony. Dead.

Tony's knees buckled below him, and he sunk to the floor. Gibbs ripped the bomb from his chest, moved over to Field and felt for his pulse. None. He moved over to John, yelled at McGee that he needed to get the medics in and walked over to Tony, kneeling beside him.

'You okay?' Tony looked down at his arm.

'Nothing serious, just a scratch,' he answered.

'If I had known that all it took to get you on your feet again was a hostage situation, I would have done that ages ago,' Gibbs blue eyes were sparkling. 'And if you ever go into a situation like this again without back up, I'm going to slap you silly,' he warned, including an appropriate head slap.

'I had back up!' Tony protested smiling. Nothing could make him happier right now than Gibbs yelling at him for not obeying his rules – just because of the fact the he was able to break them again.

'Laika doesn't count as back up, she's no Agent,' Tony shuddered.

'I'm going to talk to Jenny, there really is something wrong with our security if Field could get in this easily,' he took off and left the bullpen in a hurry. Tony tried to get up, but his legs just didn't cooperate anymore. So he sat down and waited, at the same time looking how some agents came running into the bullpen, towards the stairs.

Ziva sat by John, pressing a hand on his shoulder, trying to suppress the bleeding of his wound.

'You can't say I hadn't got your six this time,' he grimaced through his gritted teeth.

'That you had. Thanks for saving my life, John. Sorry for never giving you a real chance,' Ziva gave him an apologizing smile. 'You are a good Agent. It's just that,' her eyes traveled to Tony and back to John.

'I'll never be Tony DiNozzo,' John couldn't help but laughing. 'I'm guessing you two really are one of a kind. I'm glad that he can walk again, and I'm sure you want to talk to him now,' He placed his own hand on his shoulder wound, but it wasn't necessary anymore: McGee had brought in the medics who took over Ziva's attempts to stop the bleeding. Less than five minutes later they disappeared from the bullpen, accompanied by McGee to show them the quickest way out.

Ziva walked over to Tony and kneeled beside him. She didn't look at the body of Field, or the agents around it who were gathering evidence already.

'Are you okay? I wanted to walk over, but my legs thought otherwise,' Tony smiled, concern in his eyes.

'I'm fine, really. What happened that you are on your feet again?'

'I really don't know. I heard you were taking hostage when I was at work, and I just knew I needed to get here. I did, talked Jenny into letting me go in. First I was planning on just shooting him, but then I remembered that I had no gun. I knew you had a spare in your drawer, and I needed it. And wheeling into the bullpen wasn't really an option if I wanted to save you guys instead of getting you killed. There was no other way than to get up and walk. So I did. I got your gun, went with Laika upstairs and came up with the most ludicrous plan I've ever made up. But it worked. If any of you had reacted at Laika walking in, it wouldn't have worked at all. What kept you from doing that?'

'You wouldn't let Laika alone into the building, going to a man with a gun and bombs everywhere. Even you aren't that stupid,' Ziva grinned. 'She was you decoy I presume?'

'She was. I couldn't make myself present before he had dropped that remote. Laika took it with her. Where is she anyways?' He whistled hard, but Laika didn't show up.

'Probably outside?'

'I guess, I said that if Field started shooting she had to get out of here.' They were silent for a few moments. Slowly it started to dawn on both of them what this meant.

'Tony…' Ziva started. She wasn't sure how to say this. 'Your legs… you think this maybe was a onetime…' she didn't ended her sentence. What if it was? What if this was just some very strange kind of once-in-a-life-time miracle?

'It isn't,' Tony said. 'I know it isn't. You want to know why?' He leaned into her, as if he was telling her a secret. 'They are hurting like hell,' he whispered.

'So what?' Ziva whispered back.

'I haven't felt anything in my legs for months. Every muscle and nerve is in overdrive right now,' he leaned in closer, feeling her breath on his face.

'And you know what?' he whispered even softer than before. 'It's the best feeling I've had for months,' he admitted almost ashamed.

Suddenly there was the sound of rapid thuds on the floor, followed by a bundle of fluffy dark hair, four paws and a tail crashing into Ziva and Tony. Ziva collapsed on top of him, and Laika danced around them barking happily, before she lay down and became quiet. If someone didn't know any better, it sure looked like there was playful smile around her jaws.

Tony lifted his head an inch and looked down to his chest. Ziva looked up in Tony's eyes. She was laying on top of him with one leg between his legs, her long hair hanging in lose curls around her face. It had been a long time that he had been so close with a woman. And even longer since he had been so close to Ziva. He swallowed, and couldn't help thinking that this was very, very nice view he had. The moment he thought it, he felt another part of his body reacting. Suddenly Ziva smiled mischievously.

'I'm guessing that your legs aren't the only things working again, yes?'


	15. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: Not mine, boohoohoo_

_A/N: *sighs* well here it is. The final chapter. Well, the final story-chapter was the last one, but I always think that if there is a prologue there should be an epilogue as well. Just a small insight of small piece of aftermath of Ad Fundum. _

_Everyone who took the time to review: thank you so much! I really loved reading them, and I'm very happy that you enjoyed my story - even when I let Tony hit rock bottom, you all stayed with me :) I am looking forward to your opinions about the way I ended Ad Fundum :) Everyone who alerted or favorited my story or even myself (wow! really!): it's been very much appreciated. _

_And a very big, mega, no _huge _thank you goes to NcisRulz, who offered to beta my work. You helped me to improve my writing, and it was great working with you. I am very happy with your offer to be my beta-reader!_

* * *

**Epilogue**

Tony leaned back in his chair, placed his feet on his desk and looked around contently. It had been a month since Dimitri Field had tried to blow up the place. Tony hadn't helped with investigating the case, instead, he had gone from one appointment to another, talking with doctors and even with the much-hated shrink. It took some time before everybody thought he could go back in the field, but after that Jenny reinstated him as quickly as possible as Special Agent at NCIS.

But even though he had gained green light to get back in the field as Senior Field Agent, he still wasn't as fit as he had used to be. Months of not walking had caused his muscles to dissolve, so he had to train to get back to the same condition as he had before he got paralyzed. Every minute he could spare he trained his muscles, and it probably would take some months before he had the same amount of power in his legs he was used to. But Tony didn't care about it. He had back the job he loved most, with the people he had come to see as a family. And although chasing a suspect for a long time wasn't really an option, he could be called in any min…

'Gear up! Dead Petty Officer at Quantico, let's go!' Gibbs stormed in the bullpen, grabbed his gear and headed for the bullpen. Tony, McGee and Ziva followed suit.

'What is taking her so long, DiNozzo?' Gibbs said with a grumpy voice. They were waiting in the elevator, the doors were closing.

'She hasn't got gear yet Boss,' Tony grinned. Gibbs gave him a stare.

'But that shouldn't be a problem, right,' Tony placed his hands between the closing doors, stuck out his head and whistled. Laika jumped up from underneath his desk, and ran to the elevator.

'What took you so long, Special Agent Laika,' Gibbs grumbled, a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. Laika barked, and sat proudly between Boss Tony and Boss Gibbs. McGee and Ziva were grinning.

'We really should get her a badge, Boss,' Tony started before the elevator doors closed again.


End file.
